Chained by Wrath, Bound by Vengeance
by The Italian Rose
Summary: The rebellion is coming. Their independence must be crushed. Snow unleashes fury on Katniss Everdeen to eliminate her from this game; he'd always thought Evangeline would be the one to wreak havoc. He never foresaw the damage that followed in wake of them. How far can three girls shake the foundations of the Games? What's more is how far the Capitol will go to see free will burn?
1. They Brewed A Storm

**Hello and welcome to my newly designed story! This is a side to the two current stories I'm working on; it's been on my laptop for an age and was just begging to be posted. I'm not sure how it's going to work but I merely wanted to see if anyone _was _interested in what is to come. I've haven't read Mockingjay but I will as soon as I get my hands on a copy. Story details are down below + disclaimer. Thank you for reading in advance and if you liked it or have suggestions, please leave a review! Satin**é :)****

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><p><strong>Chained By Wrath, Bound By Vengeance by <span>the Italian Rose<span>**

_President Snow has more sins than he can imagine but his greatest crime will bring with it a storm. The rebellion is coming. The Districts must learn to live under the Capitol - their independence must be crushed. For 74 years, Snow haunted the footsteps of Evangeline Stirlingshire in fear that she might reignite the still smouldering fire from the First Rebellion. But he kept an eye on the wrong Mockingjay. Now, he must unleash his fury upon Katniss Everdeen and eliminate her from this game. What he never foresaw was the damage that would follow in wake of the angels whose innocence he burned. __Katniss Everdeen is chained by the wrath of the people. And Evangeline Stirlingshire is bound to Snow's death by vengeance for his past crime that destroyed her life. But how far will the Capitol go to see free will burn. _

**Current Pairings:** {Katniss + Peeta}, {Gale + Other Female Character} and maybe a little {Finnick + Annie} depending on how things go.

This story is set in place of the second book in the Hunger Games series, _Catching Fire _and then the fire will pick up during the events that surround _Mockingjay. _Let me forewarn you that this is not a light, fluffy story (or rainbows, sunflowers and hearts as my Beta calls them). My intention in writing this story is learning how to capture the darker nature of this story. So there will be a lot of betrayal, deaths, violence and angst. There will not be anything too graphic - nothing more serious than the scenes of battle that you'll find in my Lord of the Rings story. I'd love to hear your thoughts and constructive criticism for please leave a review in that beautiful box down below.

Also, NOTE: This story is not going to be updated weekly like my others since this _is _a side project however, I will endeavour to update at least once a month if not more.

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

**_Disclaimer: The Hunger Games are in no way mine and rights remain to Suzanne Collins and respective film corporations for their film rights._**

The man put his clasped hands underneath his chin as he contemplated his next move. Fragile elbows dug into the redwood of his desk and the wind brushed the wilted threads of his snow-white hair, tinted such that they suited his namesake. He had not stirred from his present position since he'd found his way into the study. His gaze was fixated uncertainly on the book lined shelves before him. Time had melted away as his calm exterior hardly mirrored his mind that raced in a logical, calculated manner awaiting the perfection solution to his problem.

"President Snow?"

Coriolanus Snow's heather grey eyes were the only part of his demeanour that signalled he'd heard his housekeeper as she called for him from the doorway. The menacing glare that he returned caused her to shrink away but still she maintained firm ground. Snow knew that she was used to such behaviour. "Sir, dinner is prepared." He merely nodded his dismissal of her as he stood from his desk. His eyes flickered betrayal as a small vial emptied of its contents sat atop his newspaper. The glass had been shattered and splintered into the front cover's choice of headline: Katniss Everdeen.

President Snow knew that Katniss Everdeen had opened Pandora's Box when she'd dared to disobey the rules put in place for the Hunger Games. Her outright defiance had made an impression on the pathetic populous from the districts. This flame of righteousness had to be quelled but now, it had gone far beyond his control. Reports from several districts' unrest and potential riots had already reached his desk and he'd been forced to double the number of Peacekeepers in each district, particularly those in District 12 – the birth place of this delinquency. He'd underestimated District 12, or rather he'd underestimated Katniss Everdeen. The Mallark boy was of no concern; which brought him to his next matter of concern. Did they assume he was a fool that he would not see right through their charade of love? Well, evidently it had served its purpose because _both _had come out of the ring alive – and as a result, Seneca Crane was dead under the pretence of treason. This situation was no longer just about one little girl wearing a pin of defiance, no, it had grown much beyond that. Districts were on the verge of colliding with the stern will of the government in Panem. Their independence must be crushed. Now, he would unleash the full force of the games upon the victors and eliminate Katniss Everdeen from this game.

Effie Trinket felt hollow…emotionless as she leant back against the luxurious plush chaise of the recreational cabin. She felt the train lurch forward and shoot away from Panem. She sat in silence as they progressed through the dark tunnel. Were it not for the occasional fluorescent light on the tunnel wall – that did nothing to help the dimmed lighting in the cabin – she'd have thought they were travelling in circles. In fact, she'd rather have liked it that way. She tilted her head at the coffee table where an envelope sat innocently beckoning her to crack the wax-seal open. A trembling hand slowly moved through the air and barely caught the thin parchment in its fingers. She sat back again, now with the envelope in hand. As she debated the merits of opening it, they came out of the tunnel. She was met by glorious sun though only small quantities of its warmth could come through the glass windows. Taking a deep breath, Effie opened the letter. Her perfectly arched brows became more and more furrowed as her eyes hungrily scanned the page. When she finally came to the end where President Snow's name had been scratched into the bottom, Effie could only muster a shuddering breath.

She could not bring anything _but _bad tidings to District 12 it seemed. There had been rumours circulating about the Capitol that these upcoming games – the third Quarter Quell - would outstrip all the previous ones in ingenuity and excitement. She glanced over the speech cards that were contained in the brightly coloured Quarter Quell flyer. She marvelled at how well the Capitol, more specifically the Gamemakers, could market the event…how eloquently they could excite their audience at the prospect of seeing innocent children kill each other to death and one be condemned to a solitary and traumatic lifetime.

She confessed that when she'd first set eyes upon Haymitch Abernathy, she'd cringed. Rightfully so to. The man was an alcoholic and it was unmistakable as his clothes and mouth reeked of it alike. But upon closer inspection, Effie had begun to realise that he'd not always been like this. It was the Hunger Games that made him so withdrawn…so disgusting and ruined a victor. She could only imagine how he struggled to cope with the guilt of being alive. He drowned his sorrows in liquor. Not the most advisable of trauma handling but living in the poorest district, twelve had little comfort to offer him. Effie had always been so unthinking when it came to the Games. Not anymore. Not after the 74th Hunger Games.

The word of mouth had not lied when they'd spoken so avidly of the games – they were truly the worst to date. Effie couldn't help the sinking feel that her heart was engulfed in as she flicked through the elaborate speech cards she'd been tasked with presenting. The Quarter Quell edition of the Hunger Games marked the anniversary of the districts' defeat against the Capitol and in light of the feat, the Gamemakers would play with the rules and make the games even more _special _at the 25th anniversary. In the 25th Games, the tributes were voted in by the tributes; in the 50th Games, four tributes were chosen instead of the usual two. But all these efforts would trump what was coming in the 75th Hunger Games. This year's round was made with one person in mind. This time, there was the added fuel in the fire that raged amongst the Gamemakers – all the result of one Katniss Everdeen. The Gamemakers had verified that there would be two tributes: one who would be nominated from the existing pool of victors and the second would be self-nomination by the people. This year, there could be no volunteering. The Gamemakers were not afraid to change the rules and their statement was clear: "If you want to the break the rules, Katniss Everdeen, then we can too."

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><p><em>Chapter 1: They Brewed A Storm<em>

Evangeline Stirlingshire felt a strange sense of relief as she stood amongst the eighteens. It was her last year in the reaping ball and she could not lie – it felt refreshing. She felt her nose scrunch up at the Capitol escort who stood in front of the microphone. She donned an exuberant spectacle though that was hardly much different to the rest of the Capitol's citizens. This year, she (or her designers) had chosen an orange and black Papillion dress, just as lavish as the large synthetic flower in her hair that housed even more butterflies. She confronted the audience with a sugar sweet grimace as she shuffled to the front. She attempted to inject enthusiasm in the crowd but was met by utter silence. Her own words contained less than sincere delight as she recited the words off her cards with the Capitol's signature, and horrendous, soprano accent. She appeared different this year…almost human. Her lightly coral tinted cheeks were a deathly alteration from last year's choice of makeup. Her blanched skin was like she'd overdone the powder on her face. What struck Evangeline the most was the humanity that had been carved into her gaze as she kept a watchful eye over each of the possible tributes. Most people couldn't bear to look past that mirage of wealth and luxury; in reality, it meant nothing…well, almost nothing.

Effie eyed the deathly silent mob of people gathered in the courtyard before her. Beside the evident life that was within people, their surroundings appeared dead. Like a ghost town. In her peripheral vision, she could make out the silhouette of a uniformed peacekeeper with his gun braced in both hands. She turned to her other side so that the daunting figure was well away from her line of sight. She continued to address them with as much zeal as she could muster. Her voice caught in her throat as she read the words yet again – "Quarter Quell". She looked up frightened hoping that the Peacekeepers did not notice her stumble but they seemed oblivious. She directed the crowd to the large makeshift screen that was used to send across the annual message of thanksgiving. The young ones looked on in amazement and wide eyes whilst the elders refused to even glance up at it. She continued her speech as it was written on the cards. "Furthermore, in celebration…" She halted momentarily before pushing on, "…of the 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games, the Capitol present you…the 3rd Quarter Quell Games." She trilled, daintily clapping her card-bearing hands together though no one followed the suit. She spared a nervous side-glance at the Head Peacekeeper who would've been more content to shoot down a few innocent citizens instead of merely glaring at them. Effie pursued her light mauve tinted lips and continued, "There will be _two _tributes from each district." There was a consequential sigh of relief amongst the tributes but they'd been relieved too soon.

"However, the first tribute will be selected from previous Victors of District 12."

The crowd parted like the sea allowing for Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch to make their way to the stage. She tried to silently comfort Katniss but the girl would not meet her gaze. She gave the shadow of a smile to Peeta who returned it in a similar fashion and a curt incline of the head was given to a surprisingly sober Haymitch Abernathy.

"The second tribute will be chosen by process of elimination. Three names will be drawn from the entries this year and one will be chosen by you, District 12, to be your second tribute for this year's Hunger Games!" Her exclamation was met with silence as was expected.

"A…final note…there can be _no _volunteers this year." She motioned to the wooden stand with the feared glass bowl poised on top unsuspectingly.

She stared straight into the glass bowl on the pedestal. Effie closed her eyes to clear her mind as she reached into the almost empty reaping ball. Her fingers enclosed around one of the three shreds of parchment and pulled it out almost fearing the result. She unfolded it and took a breath before divulging the identity of the first tribute: "Katniss Everdeen." A single tear traced down the tribute's cheek as she went up to stand beside her condemner. Peeta Mallark's chin dug into his chest as he clenched both his jaw and fists. Haymitch, on the other hand, simply tried to make out Katniss' blank expression. He did not stir otherwise. His chest didn't even rise or fall. The only sign of his life was the significant amount of hurt that missed over his usually drunk eyes. Evangeline peered into his eyes trying to make out the emotion until it struck her: rage. Rage that someone else had taken his place in the Hunger Games. Still, he was relieved. Haymitch Abernathy was a scarred man and a scarred man had no place in the Hunger Games arena.

"Now, for the second tribute." She moved to the opposite side of the stage, heels clacking in her wake. She fished out three slivers of paper and took the crumpled balls back to her microphone. "If your name is called please move out of your age group to the middle."

"Evangeline Stirlingshire." Evangeline felt her heart pause beating as she looked around at the people in her year group to assure her that it was indeed her name that had been called. For six years she'd managed to avoid the prospect of being a tribute…She stepped out into the space between the two groups of people. She swirled around to be met with the devastated yet comforting visages of Mrs Everdeen and Mr Mallark. She gave them a small smile before turning to the front.

"Gunnar Lockview." A scraggly haired, well-muscled boy from the sixteens came from the other side and nodded his head at her before turning to the microphone where Effie still had the last name to speak of.

"And finally, Elsie Stirlingshire!" If Evangeline had felt betrayed at hearing her name be called, then the shock was nothing compared what she experienced upon hearing her younger sister's. Her heart stopped, not merely for one second but ten. The muted greys and browns of the coal district became blurred with only the barest sliver of light illuminating her uneasy vision. Devastation hit her like a tonne of bricks – it wasn't a mistake…there _were _no mistakes.

Elsie blinked thrice as she heard her name be called. It took her a while to comprehend it until one of the girls called her a stupid goose and pushed her out where Mr Lockview and Evie were standing. Now standing at the disposal of District 12 between the delegated age areas, her bright periwinkle eyes grew wider as she met her sister's helpless gaze. Her limp leg hobbled behind the rest of her as her heart sunk even deeper than the depths of the sea.

"Now you choose, District 12. Who will accompany Katniss Everdeen, victor of the 74th Hunger Games, to the Quarter Quell?" Effie's voice rung loud and clear over the PA system, "Raise a hand for Evangeline to be nominated." Effie did not attempt to make light of the situation for these games were much closer to her and the previous. It was a solemn business that should be conducted such. A few hands were raised but not enough to send her into the games.

"Raise a hand for Gunnar to be nominated." More hands went up than last, almost a quarter.

"Raise a hand for Elsie to be nominated." If ever there was a time to make a scene, it would've been now. A heart-stabbing howl was let from Evangeline as Effie called up Elsie to the stage. She pushed past the two Peacekeepers who were poised to restrain her. Salty tears formed rivulets down her cheeks as her sank her to knees before Elsie. "No, no, no!" She murmured as the little girl feel into her elder sister's embrace. Evangeline dug her tender-fleshed knees veiled by her skirt into the gravelly tarmac and Elsie did the same with her feet as the pebbles cut through her flimsy shoe soles to her feet. Evangeline braced Elsie's head to her own shoulder and trying to push away the imminent sobs that would follow.

"Evie…I don't want to die." Elsie muttered as her face grew ashen pale.

Evangeline took Elsie's face into her own work-calloused hands, "You run. Do you hear me? You run!" Her trembling fingers went to tuck away the small curly tresses that were slinking out of their ribbons.

Elsie merely whimpered and dug her head into Evangeline's chest again. "I can't." She protested feebly, her expression mirroring that of her sister. She let Elsie claw at her shoulders as she held fast. A dark, ominous shadow lingered above them waiting to strike. "Let go of the tribute ma'am." One mechanic voice sounded from beneath the helmet.

"Her name is _Elsie. _You can kill me if you want to – I'm not letting her fall into the hands of a man who sees her nothing more than bait!"

She screamed as she felt something crack against her back painfully. The shockwave jolted through her body. It startled her enough that two thick-armoured Peacekeepers tore Elsie from her arms. "Don't leave me! Evie! Evie!" For a young girl of no more than twelve years, Elsie's voice was startling loud. The shrieks made Evangeline clamber up to take her back but she was held back by another two who completed a cage around her. The Peacekeeper forcibly struggled with Elsie thrusting her at the stage paying no heed to the little girl who fumbled on the steps. Evangeline couldn't muster any words as she desperately clung to herself to find reprieve. Between her tearstained vision, she saw Haymitch leave his post against the advice of the Peacekeepers and help Elsie up the stairs with a tender hand. Elsie looked over her shoulder in time to see Evangeline crumble to her knees; her sobs escalating to screams. She couldn't blame the Capitol – she blamed District 12. They had a choice and they put a young, innocent girl with her whole life ahead of her to be hunted by ruthless killers. Her little sister had fallen victim to an arena not made of encased glass but rather one of political makings. She felt someone pull her away from where she knelt as looking up with a suddenly burdened mind, she was met by affected gaze of Effie trinket.

Gunnar tore her away from the sight of her sister being reaped and directed her to where the non-eligible District 12s stood amongst the nineteens. Her fingers were met with a familiar cotton texture and she inhaled the rustic scent of fresh bread that always lingered about Mr Mallark's tethered coat. He stroked her loose onyx tresses as they were freed of their pins. The pins that were slid into her hair to form a low artistic bun were now of a similar fate to that of her only remaining family member: uncertain. Evangeline could somewhat ascertain who it was that stood with Mr Mallark – Peeta's father. Ms Everdeen, Katniss' younger sister Prim and Katniss' best friend, Gale Hawthorne.

_"Hurry up or we'll be late!" Evangeline called exasperatedly knowing sister would still take an age despite her warning. _

"_Found them!"_

_Evangeline raised an eyebrow from in front of the mirror as she pinned up the last few stray curls of her low bun. Her "twelve-and-a-day" year old sister sprung out from the bedroom donning the light blue frock they'd agreed upon. Since morning, the sisters had been arguing futilely about what dress the younger one would wear. _Elsie had been in favour of the pink dress that was falling apart at the seams so Evangeline had preferred the blue dress she'd purchased before Elsie's birthday the day before. She bounded into the room and triumphantly held in her hand a pair of faded ribbons.__

__"I didn't know they were lost?" Her query was met by almost no resistance. __

__"Well..." __

__She shook her head, "Never mind that. Come here so I can braid your hair." Evangeline spoke from the ancient sofa. She tucked away one of the exposed springs in the corner underneath the faded, cloth upholstery. Elsie refused to abide by her older sister's demand saying that she was twelve now and she was a big girl. Evangeline smirked mercilessly as Elsie's tiny hands went to the massive russet of curls that sprung in all directions left, right and centre. She tried to even them only to grumble as they sprung back up stubbornly. She only pouted as she sat beside Evangeline who perceptively waited. Elsie had done this every birthday for the last three years and every time, she had to ask her sister for help. She chuckled taking a portion of the hair and raking her fingers through the curls to get rid of the plentiful knots. She continued to pull and mess with the wayward strands as the knots slowly began to loosen.__

___"Ahhh-ow!" Elsie complained, "Can't you do it with a hair brush?"_ __

"_If I did it with brush, Elsie, the comb's teeth would be uprooted. Now stay still!" Evangeline exclaimed with her brow furrowed as she fiddled with another small knot. She lightly smacked her younger sister on the shoulder, "Stop complaining, little one. You should've known better than to play outside without tying up your hair."_

_"Evie." Elsie whined as her sister was on the verge of throttling her - no matter how cute she appeared. _

_"Yes?" _

_"Can I leave it out?" __"No." _

_"Please?" She pleaded. __"No." _

_"You're no fun." _

_"Haven't I heard that before? I'm a teacher Elsie. I'm meant to be grumpy. Now hold still!" Evangeline told her trying to lighten her tone as she twisted Elsie's shoulders to face the wall as she kept turning back and ruining the braid she was tried to make. _

_"Well, you at least do two braids like you did yesterday? I liked those." _

_Evangeline conceded, __"Okay. that sounds like a good idea." Her fingers deftly weaved the strands over one another as her brow was scrunched in concentration. She felt Elsie fiddling impatiently with everything that her hands came in contact with - the hem of her dress, a curl that Evangeline could never manage to tie up because it was too short, the edge of the sofa cover..."Done." She finally sighed in relief as she tied the second braid with the ribbons Elsie had retrieved._

_"Evie, can you promise you'll braid my hair tomorrow as well?"_

_Evangeline nodded hesitantly but didn't regret her response as Elsie rewarded her efforts with a vivid and toothy grin. She leapt up off the ancient sofa throwing her arms around Elsie. __Evangeline's eyes bore into the mirror on the wall as she clenched her fists behind Elsie's back. She knew that if they held Elsie then they would not leave her. Try prying them off with a crowbar that chances were that the crowbar itself would bend - Evangeline wouldn't let go of her sister. They were all each other had in the world and neither planned on giving it up so soon. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Evangeline couldn't help but wonder __if this would be the last time she'd hold her sister like this._

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><p>Important notice: In this chapter, the District 12 people vote in Elsie which is very strange considering that in the novel, they are strongly disapproving of this. I promise you there is a very good reason for this that you will find out in the story since it is a crucial plot point.<p> 


	2. Lasting Impressions

_Chapter 2: Lasting Impressions_

_**_Disclaimer: The Hunger Games are in no way mine and rights remain to Suzanne Collins and respective film corporations for their film rights._**_

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><p>The song of the night birds faded as airbrushed crimsons and sweet lemony yellows startled the weather of a lovely morning. It was quiet, peaceful….and empty. Evangeline sat huddled against the window in a chair in the main room. Her fingers mindlessly skimmed the dewy glass that watched out onto the front porch.<p>

She wasn't sorry when her mournful morning was disturbed by an unwelcome visitor. Evangeline did, however, regret the identity of her visitor. She fingered the weathered drapery of the window and peeked out the corner of the slit. Upon recognising them, she let the drape place away only gripping it to still the waving motion of the fabric. She locked the door and frantically looked around the room. She picked up a stray piece of wood perched against the wall and wedged it over the door. Evangeline backed away with trembling knees. She held her breath as she slipped between the covers of her bed. The tell-tale thud on the door cut the silence brusquely but she made no move to greet the visitor. She tried to steady the erratic heartbeats as she drew the covers further up her small figure. Another impatient rap of the knuckles sounded which was then followed by the heavy padding of feet.

She breathed a sigh of relief and went out of the back of her house cautiously. Evangeline picked up a pail of water and brought it inside which was very unlike herself. Paranoia caused her to triple check the locks before she brought a small ragged washcloth. She dampened it and ran it over her face letting it nourish her dry skin and erase the tear-stains that had formed overnight. Her stomach churned at the thought of food so she merely contented herself with two slices of bread. Even this little morsel of food satisfied her appetite – which was certainly not a good sign. Evangeline didn't have a large selection of clothes but she opted to don a flared grey skirt and a comfortable blouse that was a mint-tinted sky blue – the very shade that Elsie's dress had been. She buttoned the split-neck coat which happened to be the only coat she owned and ran a brush through her hair before hastily braiding it into a seemingly elaborate bun. Her hairstyles were often more elaborate than was required in District 12 but with a career that hardly exhausted her physically, she did have the luxury of being able to fashion her hair in simplistic but beautiful pieces. It was a therapy of sorts for her – one that reminded her that there was more to life than death, betrayal and misery. She picked up her cloth bag in which she felt her work belongings and unbolted the door, removing the wood plank.

Evangeline was facing the door was she locked and so never suspected that she'd be greeted by the full blown force of a hand be smashed into the wall right next to her door. Her chocolaty brown eyes slithered up the cracks in the wall until she was met by the undesirable face of Romulus Thread. The new Head Peacekeeper of District Twelve fancied himself a keeper of justice and had a sadistic streak which when coupled with a perchance of violent earned him his reputation of being ruthless and untouchable. Romulus Thread was not a man to be toyed with. She swallowed nervously as her eyes followed his detracting fist and then adverted to the large dent in the wall.

"Good morning sirs." She weakly spoke nodding to the pair of Peacekeepers behind Thread. Any further words were choked in her throat as he caught her wrist in a crushing grip.

"Did you think barring your entrance would keep me from finding you?" He snarled.

"I don't have to answer that." She replied coldly trying sidestep him. She feebly tried to loosen the agonizing iron grip that Thread had taken up again. Her wrist was beginning to swell and red marked appeared where his fingers were digging into the tender flesh.

"You must know that I can have you whipped for defiance and civilian disobedience." He promptly said, distastefully eyeing her worn clothes and dust trimmed skirt.

Tears of both anguish and pain seeped into her eyes but Evangeline clenched her jaw determined not to let Thread have the satisfaction of seeing her cry. "Then do it." She gritted between her teeth, "You can torment me but you can't break something that is already broken."

The tell-tale whistle sounded in wake of her words. A small audience had gathered a few feet away, observing from afar. Thread ignored them pointedly, instead grabbing her by the collar of her coat and pulling her up so that her toes just barely brushed the ground, "The next time you cross me, there will be no one who will stand between you and my whip." He seethed as he threw her back into the door. His neck flicked up to stare down the crowd not far away and they promptly dispersed. He turned pompously on his heel and stalked away with his accompanying Peacekeepers beside him. Evangeline breathed a sigh of relief as he stormed off and she let herself sink into the door.

Houses flanked each other with only a thin space of the size of narrow alleyway between as she passed the familiar terrain. The filthy wood-planked walls were stripping of their colour and their withstanding of weather had made them a dull slate. She kept her gaze firmly on the faded mossy ground as she left The Seam with a sigh of relief. She skirting the Hob, Evangeline found herself at her place of employment: the school. Truth be told, it was only a formality. The Panem government never bothered with the other districts, much less District 12 – the poorest district of them all. To them, it seemed pointless to give an education to children who were going to grow up and mine coal which in their eyes required little to no knowledge. However, as every district had one, it was only natural that they allow District 12 a school. It was mostly run by the teachers themselves though the curriculum was strictly administered by one of the officials from the Justice Building.

The school of District 12 was situated in a relatively large albeit run-down space, and of course, there were no bright colours. The building was said to have once been a mansion though no one ever knew who the occupants were. The bottom floor was used to teach all the children from eleven and above and top floor was left primarily unused or as a storage space. Evangeline taught outside the stifling main building inside a smaller classroom that was like her own house in many ways. There weren't many teachers employed simply because the District's keepers weren't particularly fond have having to 'waste money on unnecessary teacher wages'. Evangeline was glad that she'd been kept on since she was the youngest teacher of the few that did. The matter had been taken up at the Town Hall and she'd been taken initially on a probationary period to determine her worth. She was kept on eventually - denial wasn't a familiar trait when it came to Capitol. Their _generosity _knew no bounds. Though Evangeline would take any work given to her, she was still highly opposed to portraying the Capitol as saints. Her colleague, Trace Casterton, had no reservations of doing this because she'd been teaching it for the past seven years. Their keen partnership had even led them to switch classes leaving Evangeline with twenty-eight rather optimistic children ranging from the ages of four to six. Their young age only required them to learn key facts about the system and focused more the basic mathematics and communication skills rather than parroting politically incorrect facts supplied to them by the Capitol. This would be an awfully long day for Evangeline...

"Peeta, you go." Katniss looked meaningfully at Peeta Mallark as he stared at her blankly.

"No. You should. You're the one with a younger sister, Katniss. Just think that you're speaking with Prim." Peeta encouraged the dark-haired victor as she paled upon closer inspection of the girl who was in question.

Elsie had not stirred from her present spot in the green newly-upholstered chaise since they'd departed from District 12. There were no goodbyes for Katniss Everdeen nor Elsie Stirlingshire and again, none for Peeta Mallark. Katniss had been grabbed by Romulus Thread and Elsie had been ushered over tripping feet to the station where they were made to board the train. The regretful tears had not fallen until they'd safely pulled away from the station. The dam had broken and her sobs only reduced to whimpers some moments ago. Katniss could not bear it as Elsie's tears only encouraged her own tears to fall so she abruptly left the room. Haymitch had retired to his room not once coming into the room. Effie merely placed a hand on her shoulder, unable to comprehend how she could comfort the girl. Peeta was the only one of the four who had managed to break her initial resistance. He knelt before her and coaxed her out of her tears though her mournful thoughts were hardly at ease. When Katniss re-entered the room, she witnessed Peeta's calming demeanour with Elsie and immediately felt guilt swamp her. She approached her from behind as Effie had but found that she'd lost all ability to speak. What do you tell an inconsolable girl that is destined for imminent death? How can you tell her that everything is alright, that they'll be safe and sound?

Peeta sighed as he pulled Katniss along with him, "We'll both talk to her." He assured when she tried to pull away. Katniss nodded hesitantly as they made their way across from the windows on the opposite end of the room to where Elsie was seated. Sometimes she looked outside through at the Appalachian terrain through the small windows but as night fell, she kept staring into a little trinket in her hands.

Elsie went quiet as she saw a pair of black boots on the ground in front of her. "Elsie?" There was something familiar about Peeta's soothing tone of voice that caused Elsie to acknowledge his presence. She glanced up at him nervously, "I'm Peeta. And this is Katniss." She looked to beside her where the lone female victor of District 12 sat. Katniss gave her a half-heartedly smile; still Elsie was daunted. These people were killers – that was how they were alive: they killed.

"Are you going to kill me?" She asked in a hushed voice.

Katniss shook her head, "No. We're both going to come out of this alive."

Elsie nodded but remained reticent until Peeta spoke up again. "Can I see that?" He gestured to Evangeline's locket that she fiddled with. She was reluctant to part with it but a nagging feeling in her heart caused her look up at him nervously. Evangeline always told her that the way to see a person's true nature was by staring deep into their eyes into their soul. When she looked at Katniss she saw the eyes of a killer; regretful but a killer nonetheless and that scared Elsie. However, with Peeta, she witnessed nothing but compassion and sincerity in him.

Peeta smiled at Elsie as she cutely twisted her lips but a strange warmth spread through him as she gave him a tiny yet genuine smile. He knew instantly that she trusted him. As if to demonstrate his thoughts she put her hand out offering the locket encased in her fingers since they'd left. "What's this?" He inquired in a gentle tone, similar to one he might use with an animal to not frighten them away.

"Evangeline's locket. She let me wear it today." He brushed his thumb over the intrinsic carving of the gold metal. He lightly applied some pressure so as not the unintentionally break the fragile clasp. It popped often and he opened it where there were two photos…well, drawings. The portrait on the left was a brilliantly sketched design of Evangeline and Elsie and on the right, another couple that Peeta did not recognise. He smiled into it before returning it to its rightful owner.

"It's beautiful." He assured her and she returned the sentiment.

Katniss excused herself, knowing that Peeta would be able to drawn Elsie out of her shell better than herself. She saw Peeta clearly try to talk her into staying and assured him that she would return right after she woke up Haymitch who'd not emerged from his room the entire journey. She shut the cabin door behind her and let her smile fall away into her a blank stare. She closed her eyes; her expression resembling that of fleeting pain; before she wandered through the frustratingly familiar corridors. She knocked on Haymitch's door and found the room deserted. She contemplated possibly fleeing to another part of the train but decided against it. When she returned to the lounge room to parrot her findings, she found Haymitch and Effie had arrived a few moments before she had.

Elsie had begun to like Haymitch Abernathy – he was a little candid but had a really mushy and devoted heart when it came down to it. The said man sat next to Peeta with one arm slung over the back of chaise and a glass of alcohol in his hand. She smiled up at elaborately dressed lady that had followed him into the cabin. There was a genuine sweetness underlying her shallow Capitol-istic appearance. Elsie's eyes couldn't help but feast on the multitude of scarlet fans that formed a scalloped dress. As her gaze went up to Effie's face, she peered closely at her pink-dusted cheeks and then at the pointlessly large blonde, gold-sprinkled wig.

"I like your dress. It's very pretty..." She whispered quietly before putting her out her hand, "I'm Elsie."

Effie had never felt her heart so touched at the lovable girl. "I'm Effie Trinket. I'm the escort for District 12." She smiled softly before shaking Elsie's outstretched hand. She pointedly put up a finger clearly addressing everyone in the room "Well, before we begin, I've had a thought."

"You don't say." Haymitch deadpanned causing Elsie to try and suppress her smile. She silently welcomed Katniss as she moved over to allow the older girl to sit beside her.

"I got my golden hair, Katniss her pin and even Elsie has that lovely gold locket. I want to give you two boys something gold."

Haymitch nodded mockingly, "And the point proved is…?"

Effie glanced at him disapprovingly…well, as disapprovingly as a personality like hers might, "To show them we are a team." She spoke as though it remained the most obvious thing in the world.

Katniss look her hand gently as Effie's voice began to break from sentimentality. Haymitch couldn't help but mirror the action with her other hand. She shared a knowing smile with Peeta and somehow, Elsie felt like she didn't belong here. What she didn't know was that the little girl had taken a special spot in Effie's heart. The escort had made certain that whilst she'd been the one to unwillingly condemn Elsie into the game, she would be the one to ensure that Elsie never felt alone or far from her family.

"Katniss?" Elsie spoke up as their emotional moment passed and business was brought on in its wake, "I'm sorry you got stuck with me. I know you'd rather anyone else."

Katniss felt uncertain but as if on sisterly instinct, her arm wound around Elsie, "Don't think that. Don't say you're sorry. You're one of the nicest people I could enter the games with."

"Well…I have a feeling that aforesaid 'nice' isn't going to be of much use. What are the Games like?"

Effie shook her head, "Don't bother. You see, this year _everything _will be different. It's the Quarter Quell."

Back at home, Evangeline straightened herself in her chair as she ran the risk of nodding off again. She still had several unmarked papers but now the words and numbers were merging into one another from exhaustion. She pushed back her exhaustion; having little to no sleep the night before; and continued marking ticks and corrections over the homework.

"I'm sorry you have to wait Miss Stirlingshire." Evangeline set down her red pen and rubbed her eyes tiredly as she looked up to Posy Hawthorne who occupied one of the desks in the front row. She gave her pupil a tired smile and pushed her chair back, cringing as it creaked against the weary floorboards. She miserably tried to suppress her scowl as they groaned beneath her feet. She pulled back the rickety seat from a nearby desk and positioned it closer to Posy's desk.

"That's fine. I truly don't mind." She felt the unspoken words between them. The heavy, lingering silence spoke volumes that would never have cut Evangeline so deeply at they been spoken, "Well, how are you going with those words?" She was glad to see that her distraction had worked as Posy commented on the difficult of one of the words on the list rather than the new tributes.

Evangeline picked up Posy's discarded pencil and began to scribble on the word sheet, dictating hints as the lead drew across the page fluently. Just as she'd finished dotting her I's and T's, she heard heavy footsteps over the threshold of the classroom. If she'd looked up from her page, Evangeline might have been less startled when she heard a stern voice call for her pupil. She was met by the taciturn, heather grey gaze of Gale Hawthorne. She nearly tumbled off her chair in fright barely being able to steady the chair's rickety legs. His eyes softened when they fell on Posy beside her. "Thanks for your help Miss Stirlingshire!" She smiled brightly at her teacher and Evangeline couldn't help but return the smile with an adoration.

"You're most welcome." She called as she replaced the chair and gathered her belongings off the desktop, shoving them into her bag hurriedly, "I'll see you tomorrow?" She called from the back of the classroom near the entrance as she paced to the coat rack and retrieved her jacket and scarf. She looped the faded pink scarf over the exposed part of her neck that the buttoned jacket didn't cover.

Posy nodded and Evangeline turned away, not expecting Gale Hawthorne of all people to offer to walk her home. At first, she considered refusing but after the encounter with the Peacekeepers that she didn't refute had rattled her, she conceded his point. She thanked him as softly as she could muster, letting the Hawthorne siblings walk ahead of her so that she could lock the classroom door. Not that locks would be of any use – no one stole in District 12, quite frankly, what was there to steal? And locks would do nothing to keep out the Peacekeepers because they wouldn't even touch the lock. They'd simply break down the door. Still for her peace of mind, Evangeline let the key turn in its tarnished lock and then tucked the brass item in her coat pocket.

Posy walked ahead of them quite spritely as Evangeline quietly observed her play some sort of a game as she ventured along. She didn't dare look up at Gale as she looked away feeling quite certainly dwarfed in size next to him. Evangeline couldn't deny that Gale Hawthorne scared the living daylights out of her. A fleeting smile played on her lips as she admired the beauty that was the evening airbrushed skies. This was admittedly her most favourite time of day.

"I'm sorry about Elsie." Gale's deep voice broke her out of her musings, "For what it's worth I'd rather have not seen her go."

She sighed, "I am too."

He moved in front of her and pivoted to block her progress, "Katniss and Peeta will look after her."

"I'm counting on them. She's all I have left. I…I should be sorry too. Mr Mallark said you and Katniss were best friends."

He nodded ruefully, "We still are."

"I know." She leant her head in as if divulging a secret, "Peeta always tells me how often she spoke of you and Prim. She really does love you both. You're like family to her."

He gave her a half-smile as they carried on. "You know, I hope you don't mind me saying this but you're not half as bad as I made you out to be."

She tilted her head to look up at him only to find that he was already stared down at her as they continued walking though noticeably slower than before, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you remember in tenth I think it was we had Miss Beverley give us that lecture on…"

"_The importance of a stable government in Panem_? Yes, I remember that." She recited the iconic title of lecture piously before successfully masking the growing grin on her face. Of all the lecture's she'd had to sit through during school, that one was the only one she remembered clear as day...namely because it had been a hilariously horrific lesson on the teacher's part. She also recalled it as the first time she'd spoken with Gale. Evangeline had shared many classes with him but somehow their paths never crossed.

"I thought you hated me back then." He admitted.

"Hated!? More like feared you. You were…are so much bigger than me!" She threw her head back freely laughing for the first time in a while, "And then that day when some of the guys were antagonising Katniss and you scared them off – believe me, I swore I would never get the courage to speak with you."

He chuckled, "Point noted. Well…can we at least _try _to be friends?"

She thought about it for a second as they reached her house, "I'd like that." She gave him a small smile accompanied with a tentative wave and hugged Posy goodbye before turning into the house.


	3. A Lesson Not Taught: Survival

_Chapter 3: A Lesson Not Taught: Survival_

__**_Disclaimer: The Hunger Games are in no way mine and rights remain to Suzanne Collins and respective film corporations for their film rights._**__

NOTE: Italics are memories or events that happened in the past.

* * *

><p>"The Capitol has spared no expense. A new training centre. New living quarters and of course, a new special arena. But this year you'll be facing another victors. Capitol favourites. Smart, cunning, skilled and they all know one another. <em>You <em>two are the outsiders." - Effie Trinket, Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Despite having slept remarkably well between fluffy blankets and crisp sheets, Elsie found herself stir awake at the crack of dawn. Her awakening would've been imperceptible to the cameras installed in the ceiling of the room as only her eyes shot open. Elsie awaited the horror-induced screams of her sister but all she was met with was a thick, dull silence. She tried to go back to sleep but missed the familiar warmth of her sister's embrace. More often than not, Evie would bundle her Elsie up into her arms as if to reassure herself and then would rock the pair to sleep until the early hours of morn. The sun would've been barely peeking out from the alpine mountain landscape now.

Young Elsie eased herself into one of the chairs that surrounded the glass-top dining table. It was not bedecked as it was the night before possibly due to the ungodly hour at which she arrived in it. She was however startled to meet the steady, haunting gaze of an avox who stood with her arms clasped together and head bent in submission. Elsie initial reaction was to smile at the avox but she remembered Peeta's advice the night before. _"Never speak to an avox." _Her smile came out as a painful grimace as she ordered a light meal consisting of hot chocolate and some pastries. The avox moved out of the room stealthily only to return moments later with her early morning delicacy. Elsie nodded her thanks before daintily observing the delicacies that were placed before her. She dipped the corner of the puffed pastry into the steaming concoction of chocolate and nibbled on it. She'd seen Peeta do it numerous times during the ride to the Capitol and Katniss had followed by his example. Elsie had been quite childishly elated when she'd first tasted the rich brown liquid which was very warm…almost too hot to drink. The bread she'd dipped into it reminded her of home but it didn't have the hearty, rustic taste that Mr Mallark's breads did. It felt synthetic on her tongue; tasty but unnatural.

Elsie closed her eyes and relished the sensation of sweet cherry flavour dancing along her tongue as it burst from the well-tempered pastry shell. The delectable moment in heaven lasted but a minute as she brought out of her musings. She felt a wan smile grace her lips as she heard the unmistakable footfalls of Peeta Mallark. She tilted her head towards the chair across from her and he obliged though not without some hesitation.

"Good morning." She told him softly but said no more.

"Morning. Sleep well?" She nodded briefly in response before turning her attentions to the half-finished pastry that oozed with a cherry condiment, "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged, "I'm nervous. _Very _nervous but I think I'll survive." She winced at her choices of words though it was too late to take it back, "What's the plan for today?" As she said this, Peeta couldn't help but think back to the day before.

_Peeta could've been contemplating for hours on end and he doubted that anyone would've readily noticed that so__mething was remiss. There were so many thoughts that plagued his mind yet he'd come to no conclusions. First and foremost was all the secrets that Haymitch, Katniss and maybe even Effie had kept from him. Katniss and Peeta had always been presented as a team, as lovers but it was evident that Haymitch cared more for Katniss' survival than his own. He understood Haymitch's motives but what perhaps hurt the most was that Katniss played along with him too. They kept things that concerned him, from him as though he was too dumb or too undependable for it to be shared with him. __Whether they liked it or not, he too risked being a victim of Snow's wrath and along with him, his family too. After the rioting in District 8, it was evident that he could no longer be left in the dark. Katniss relayed everything to him and Peeta didn't deny that it stung him when he realised that their scheming - which didn't include him - went back as far as to before the 74th Hunger Games even began. _

_Haymitch had kept Katniss alive as his expense. _

_And that hurt him. More than they could ever know. _

_His relationship; whatever it was; had been quite tense to begin with. He'd been quite taken aback when she'd attacked him after his interview with Caesar Flickerman. He wanted to be friends with Katniss but she denied him. He wanted to believe that he would be worth something in the arena but even then he was denied. He gave everything, including staking his own life, to keep her alive but she was too absorbed in her own world to realise how much the collateral damage of her actions would affect him. __Their charade of love had been hard on them both, especially Katniss. He didn't fault her in it. Nor did he ever criticise her for changing since winning the Games because even during the countdown__ into the games, Peeta knew that if they did come out alive…they would never be the same. In spite of all misgivings, he didn't want to hold a grudge against her. He knew that underneath her 'untouchable' facade, she was truly a good person and no matter how hard he tried, that would never change._

_He saw Haymitch discreetly motioned to him from the doorway of the entertainment room and got up off the chaise, giving Elsie a fleeting smile as she looked up from her drawings. He nodded curtly to Katniss whose eyes were firmly trained on him as he crossed the room. _

"_How's the little one?" Haymitch gruffly inquired though Peeta knew that there was a lot of underlying love for Elsie. _

"_She's doing well, I suppose. Given the circumstances. Strangely calm though." _

_Haymitch nodded thoughtfully, "Good, good. That's very good." Peeta looked over his shoulder as Haymitch motioned to the white chaise where Katniss' eyes bore a hole into his back, "I'll take that one and rough her up a bit; season her for the Games. Elsie is a smart kid but she needs to learn how to stay on her feet." _

_Peeta spoke up nervously, "As her mentor, how can I...?" _

_"Find her strengths and make sure her weaknesses aren't known to the other tributes. The most important piece of advice I can give you is to be a friend to Elsie. She isn't tough like Katniss; make sure she talks to you. __Trust me, you'll do fine." Haymitch answered putting a hand on his shoulder. _

_"Do you think she'll…?" _

_His former mentor refused to meet his eyes desolately, "I don't know, Peeta. I honestly don't know."_

As Peeta went to speak up, his statement was interrupted by Haymitch and Katniss' entries. Peeta wondered if Haymitch had spoken to Katniss about his plan because as his fellow victor slumped into the chair beside him, she gave Haymitch a murderous glare which Haymitch nonchalantly brushed off though his plain frustration was clear. Their mentor ambled along the wall where panels of thick glass looked out into the courtyard though from their level, it was near impossible to see anything. Elsie tried to smile at Katniss but the female victor barely acknowledged her. Peeta nudged her pointedly, to silently admonish her for her rudeness. Katniss sighed before glancing up at Elsie who peered over the rim of her mug. She gave her a half-smile which was all she could muster but it seemed Elsie was quite content with even that much. He peered curiously at the little girl as she picked at the second pastry in her plate still deducing whether or not she wanted to eat it.

"Forget everything you think you know about the Games." Haymitch told them as he poured himself a beverage from the crystal decanter. Katniss leant back into her seat, her ever darkened gaze not betraying her thoughts. He then turned to Elsie, "How much do you know about the Games?"

Elsie pursed her lips as she came up with an answer, "Not much other than I'm going to get killed."

Haymitch did nothing to reassure her of survival which made Elsie certain that for her, that was all there would be to the games – death. She wanted to look at Peeta for encouragement but feared looking in his direction. Behind him was that girl with the tape. Now farther away from Elsie, she could see the baggy grey tunic that the girl donned. To be honest, it looked like a sack more than anything else.

Haymitch nodded, "Alright well, things could be worse. This year there's going to be twelve victors in the arena. You're going to be dealing with all experienced killers."

"Well what does that mean for them?" Peeta inquired having still not touched his plate.

Several avoxes were prompted to enter the room carrying silver platters laden with breakfast choices though none of the occupants of the room truly felt hungry. All the talk of the games had killed what was left of their appetite. Haymitch dismissed them as there sat boiled eggs, pancakes, toast and all sorts of meal choices available and at their disposal.

"Chances are that the victors will let the young ones go first. They'll get killed and the victors come out alive. Then, who knows what will happen. What you need to do is get some allies." By the severe look in Haymitch's face, Elsie knew that there was no jest about this.

His eyes flicked down as his statement was punctuated by Katniss' fork stabbing into the slab of cooked bacon on her plate. She removed the teeth from the food and let it clatter onto the table.

"She's calling shots." Haymitch nodded his head toward Katniss.

Katniss merely shook her head with no worry apparent, "No."

Peeta spoke up, "Katniss don't forget – it isn't just you in this. Elsie has never learnt how to fight. She isn't seasoned for the Games. This isn't like last time."

"You're starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years." Haymitch emphasised even though he clearly knew that he was exhausting the topic. He sat in the chair next to Katniss, elbows braced on his knees and glass in hand.

Katniss' stance was clear. She didn't want anything to do with the Games until it was absolutely necessary, "That just puts them higher on our kill list."

"If you want to do it your way, then do it. But I know these people. You go at it alone and the first thing they're going to do is hunt you down and skewer you."

Elsie twisted her lips before speaking up, "Well, it couldn't hurt to think about? We don't even know what everyone is like yet. Maybe there'll be someone worth making alliances. The Games appears to be less than fighting, more about diplomacy."

All eyes turned to her and as if on reflex, Elsie felt herself shrink in her chair. Haymitch narrowed his eyes with a curious smile playing on his lips, "Go on. I think some fresh meat might spice up the strategy."

Elsie glared at him mockingly. "The aim of the games is to please the Capitol. If this is something to be broadcasted, they would want suspense – that's how they buy their viewers. If we don't ally ourselves, then we've pretty much lost any interest – figuratively speaking of course since Katniss is probably an exception. They'll aim to kill off anyone who doesn't contribute to the plot and purpose of the Games. They probably bought out the Careers by leading them to hunt those sorts of people down…or the Gamemakers might kill them themselves."

Haymitch smirked at Katniss nudging his head in Elsie's direction, "This one's a smart one. Might give the reins to her if you keep this up."

"Even if we _did _ally ourselves, how can we trust them?"

"It's not about trust." Haymitch stared her straight in the eye, "It's about staying alive."

Elsie had left the room shortly after an awkward smile had fallen upon the District 12 visitors in the dining room and instead, set off to the room to find something to ease the pain of a countdown to her death. That was how Haymitch found her: curled up in a corner of her bed with her notepad balancing precariously on her lap and pencil on the floor. Her soft snores causing Haymitch to smile quietly at the vision before him as he ventured quietly to the other side of the bed. He went to shake her shoulder but found that she was already startled awake. "Is it time?"

He nodded, "Portia's waiting for you." Elsie had already been introduced to Katniss and Peeta's stylists from the previous year's Games. Cinna had been very warm and welcoming but also incredibly down to earth which she admired, especially in a person from the Capitol. Her own stylist was Portia who'd styled Peeta in the 74th Hunger Games. She was a little over the top but quite sweet. Elsie knew instantly that Cinna and Portia made a great team.

"Well, Persephone, Gaius would you please start fixing her hair? Look at those beautiful locks but it'll take an age to get them right. Now! If you please!" Portia called elegantly from where she was observing the designs that she and Cinna had come up with for these games.

Elsie felt gratitude sink in her veins as Portia again reprimanded her team for frightening Elsie off by constantly prodding and poking at her like a china doll. The team of stylists worked in what seemed to be a pre-prepared formation. Two on her feet, two on her hands, four on her hair and several on her face though Elsie couldn't tell as her cheek was being buffed with some powder whilst her eyelashes were being coated in a nice smelling substance that reminded her of black ink that smelt like blackberries.

"Don't you worry yourself over there, Elsie. I promise you that you will eventually get used to it. Just look at Katniss." Portia tried to bolster her spirit that was shredding faster than her patience.

"What am I wearing?" The words came out a jumbled mess. Elsie tried to repeat her question fearing that her stylist hadn't understood but she was gently chided by a female stylist with paper-thin faux-bob in a fiery orange. The stylist dipped her brush into a colour of what suspiciously looked like a paint palette. The white tip came out a deep, red-tinted pink and then disappeared from her vision as the paint was applied to her lips. She was happy to find that Portia had already predicted the question and set about answering her query.

"Originally Cinna and I wanted to remake the 'District 12 on Fire' theme but that didn't quite fit especially since the second tribute was a female, more specifically a young girl." She tittered as she penned in some sort of note onto the paper in front of her before looking over her shoulder objectively at Elsie, "So instead we came up with something else…and I have a feeling that you are going to like it."

And so that was how Elsie found herself in her most recent predicament. The young girl stood in the elevator alone trying not to cry at the metal moving walls that appeared to flex and close in on her. She successfully held back tears though it was less about being strong and more about not ruining her makeup which had taken just over two hours to apply, and that was after four hours of skin preparations. Why the Capitol deemed it appropriate to make its soon-to-be dead tributes sit through such torture was beyond her.

The doors slid open with a tell-tale ding and Elsie struggled to lift the bundles of skirt fabric which pooled well below her feet. She had been told to wear the most painfully tall heels to ensure that her height was no impediment to the audience – so, of course, there was no consideration to the amount of agony that she currently felt as she wobbled on the pin-straight heels. She felt more and more preoccupied with being self-conscious as she felt numerous prying eyes on her.

She walked past the District 1 tributes who were bedecked in jewels and a little too much golden fabric for her liking. Haymitch's deadpanned voice rung in her head from the tribute debriefing that she'd had to sit through, wedged between Katniss and Peeta on the modestly-sized couch.

"_Gloss and Cashmere – not his sister, the other one…apparently. Gloss won back to back games, and they're Capitol favourites and lots and lots of sponsors. He will be lethal." _

Elsie's gaze promptly shot up as she heard the barring of teeth. She was met by Enobaria's distinct growl as her hands were bundled up into fists containing the material of her gladiator-like outfit.

"_And the other half of the Career pack are these two. Hero and Enobaria." _

"_What's with her teeth?" Katniss muttered quietly but Haymitch's keen sense of hearing picked it up. _

"_She had them filed into fangs so that she could rip people's throats out." The picture halted again by will of Haymitch's clicking thing; that's what Elsie liked to call it. Haymitch spoke nonchalantly though the worry in his eyes was evident. _

"_Well…she's committed I'll give her that." Peeta commented causing Elsie to snort out in laughter. _

Elsie looked away and decided that she'd just be better off with not looking at any of the tributes from this moment forward. The only time she looked up was to see the District 4 tributes though Finnick Odair was strangely missing from the chariot's side. She gave a small smile to the girl who hid behind the horses to avoid being looked at more than necessary.

"_Coralie. Well, she's sixteen and a mute. Terrified of fighting and incredibly shy. She's not going to be a problem. Chances are Finnick will actually be sticking with her – you know, the whole caring for everyone and praise humanity deal."_

"_But she's not going to last. He'll probably kill her when it comes down to it." Katniss added. _

"Katniss!" The said girl turned around at the lightly tinged accent that called her name. Her hands were still brushing against the smooth flesh of one of the black stallions that would carry the District 12 chariot as she saw one Finnick Odair saunter up to her. She couldn't refrain from admitted that his stylists did know their way about the victor. His chest was bared and surprisingly noticeable as all the other tributes, including herself, were fully clothed. The only article of clothing on him was a fishnet skirt made of knitted gold fabric. Belted with a brown leather belt, he also wore to necklaces; one made of stones in several shades of grey and the other a twine necklace with an arrowhead-like charm. What bothered her the most wasn't his windswept hair that appeared naturally flawless but rather that cocky grin on his face that unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

She greeted him in a slightly cold manner perturbed by his nonchalant countenance. For a guy about to be executed in the Hunger Games' arena, he seemed quite calm and frankly, uncaring. She didn't see what was in his hand until he held it up between his forefinger and thumb as if showcasing it.

"Would you like a sugar cube?" She raised an eyebrow questioningly causing him to smirk. Her evident doubt at his sanity gave him a great source of amusement, "It's supposed to be for the horses but I mean, who cares about them right?" She contemplated giving him a glare that could've been interpreted on a one-way to road to 'I am going to enjoy skewering you in the arena' but kept up a façade deciding against it. "If you see something sweet grab it while you can."

Her feisty response was what Finnick had hoped for, "No thanks but I would like to borrow that outfit someday." _The girl on fire indeed…_

He commented on the fierceness of her dress and Katniss mentally applauded Cinna at succeeding in his design. Her statement seemed to suffice and even if it didn't, it wasn't his call. Finnick continued to egg her on with more remarks causing her to internally roll her eyes. When she looked over his shoulder, she couldn't repress the fond smile that came over her at the sight of the young girl who looked very different in the dress that Portia had designed for her.

Finnick glanced over his shoulder to see where Katniss' attention had drifted and found that it was the other District 12 tribute headed their way. He admitted wholeheartedly that she was a vision. Gorgeous and stunning were words not even close to adequate to describe the magnificence that radiated from her. Katniss' look was dark and dangerous but hers? No, her dress was sweet, innocent and strangely cryptic in its makings. While Katniss shone in velveteen danger that attracted Finnick to her, this girl was an entity within herself. She seemed oblivious to how beautifully she was presented as she kept staring down at the ground to ensure that she didn't fall.

Katniss couldn't hold back the disapproving glare that shadowed her features as she saw Finnick obviously staring at Elsie. Not suggestively in anyway, mind, merely staring at her. Elsie would've no doubt been bouncing on her heels in excitement if it were not for the monstrously tall heels she'd been made to wear. Despite this added height to her figure, Katniss had also seen that there was a slight pedestal to the left side of the chariot for her to be seen.

"Well, well. You look just stunning Miss Elsie." Finnick complimented an affectionate upturn of the lips.

Elsie did not take his reaction in any other way than politically feigned flattering meant to enamour her which she made clear did nothing to shake her opinion of him. However, when she did look into his eyes she noticed that he was very sincere in his compliments. She shed the first layer of her coldness though they were hardly on way to being friends. "Thank you. You look…very nice as well. I'm sure your stylist captured your district verily with that outfit." She remarked though it wasn't meant to be catty.

He nodded to her, "Thank you." As Elsie was again preoccupied by fussing her dress that didn't seem to quite sit right, Finnick leant closer to Katniss "Oh…and shame about the wedding. I'm sorry you had the cancel it. It must've been a devastating decision." He drawled before popping the sugar cube into his mouth. He bid her a good day before looking down to a restless Elsie as she tried to fix the hem of her dress that kept escaping her. He discreetly with his foot moved the fabric to straighten out though not too hard as to tear it. Elsie looked over her shoulder suspiciously before giving him a quick smile and nod of thanks.

A robotic call came over the PA system, emitted through the speakers hung on the corners of the tunnel. Elsie smiled at Cinna who looked her up and down in approval with one of his own. His tone grew bordering troubled as he continued to address Katniss primarily on how she should act and where she should look. He gave her a little button of some sort before squeezing Elsie's shoulder and leaving them to mount the chariot with the help of escorts that were waiting dutifully by the side.

Adorned with white blossoms that reminded Elsie of the wild ones in the garden that Evangeline tended to, the otherwise midnight chariot was led on by the two stallions. She couldn't help but feel daunted as she heard the enormous crowds cheering for the first of the chariots that left the tunnel. District 12 was the finale of all and the display had show that.

Katniss leant in as they were about to enter the outside world, "I'm scared too."

Elsie smiled at her as she felt Katniss' hand clasp hers in silent comfort as the chariot moved forth along the newly cemented road especially for the Quarter Quell. The roaring of the large assembly was muffled well in the tunnel. Elsie was certain that if it were not for Katniss' sharp grip and her own trembling hand on the side of the chariot, she was sure to have fallen back from the sheer intensity that greeted her ears. Her eyes scanned the crowds wondrously as she knew that she'd never seen so many people in one place before. A vivid multitude of colours were displayed from the crowd stands like a rainbow. Coiffures and sparkly accessories caught the sun glinting like little stars amongst the vibrant landscape of pigments. It was fantastic. The music of the Hunger Games rung in her ears like a deafening anthem as equally spaced out drums were beat thunderously in the chariots' wake.

Caesar Flickerman all but wriggled in his seat in excitement as Katniss Everdeen and Elsie Stirlingshire took the stage. They emerged from the shadows of the tunnel where the chariots were set and stood, the pair of them, in all glorious purpose. "Here they come. From District 12. Our _favourites_." His co-anchor went to correct him and Caesar willingly took the jab upon himself claiming that they were indeed his favourites, especially Katniss who they'd seen in the previous games. He leant his arms back onto the table flashing his perfect, pearly white death at the cameras as he calmed himself enough to continue keenly observing the ceremony. "And _look _at Elsie! Gosh, she looks so magnificent. You'd never have thought she's only twelve!" Claudius Templesmith commented fleetingly.

Elsie felt shivers go down her spine as she saw a fleeting motion from Katniss' side. Their dresses though nothing alike where made such that they would complement each other's whilst still holding true to their respective personalities. Elsie had been very aware that it had been Cinna who was determined to highlight her as much as Katniss; from what she gathered, Portia had wanted to make Elsie more like an accessory to Katniss' presentation. The said victor's black ankle-length gown; covered in golden engravings and an intricate neckline; was moments later engulfed in crackling flames. Elsie's lilac hued dress resembled the glow of coals when placed over fire. It too burst into flames but it didn't leave red sparkles behind them. Instead, it emitted an illusionistic glow of cool tinted diamonds. There was a story behind that concept and Elsie would be sure to press Peeta about it.

She noticed President Snow with an indiscernible gaze which met nothing but their chariot. Katniss' glare did not leave him until she would've been forced to stare back at him. Her shoulders only slumped when they returned to the tunnel and were safely shielded away from the public. She rolled them back as their terseness caused her flickering pain. She thanked Katniss as the older girl helped Elsie out of the chariot. They were almost instantly flooded by greetings from Haymitch and Peeta. The aforementioned mentor looked slightly tipsy as he congratulated them. However, Elsie felt that it was more effusive joy than the affects of alcohol. They were briefly met by Seeder and Brocade - the tributes from District 8 who looked rather sane when compared some of the others that they were up against.

The four of them silently piled into the elevator and Elsie looked up at Haymitch who bounced slightly on his heels. The doors went to close when they were obstructed by a slim hand extending into the gap. They reopened to reveal a very temperamental Johanna Mason. She eyed Katniss' outfit before she finally settled on Elsie's dress. "Well, you girls look amazing." The look she gave them was one that Elsie found herself unable to decipher. She went on to call her stylist useless and a complete idiot as she undid the clips in her hair and threw them to the ground with a clatter. Elsie looked around the decently sized cage as it began to travel upwards. Elsie didn't pay much attention to the District 7 tribute until she heard the phrase, "I'd love to put my axe in her face." She fearfully looked up at Katniss merely stared at her unrelentingly. She undid her wrist cuffs studded with metal spikes and they too found their way to the floor. "Such a shame that you didn't make the cut but who cares? I'm sure the whole world wants to sleep with you."

Elsie swallowed a barking laugh that threatened to escape the confines of her lips.

"Well, I wouldn't..." Katniss was cut off by Johanna.

"I wasn't talking to you." She turned to face them, tilting her head capriciously before she pointedly stared at the second victor of the 74th Games. Katniss pursed her lips readily diverting all of Johanna's attentions to Peeta. "Can you unzip?" She asked prettily to him as she held her red-tipped ponytail over her shoulder. Peeta answered affirmative unable to conjure another response causing Katniss to throw daggers at him. He uneasily shrugged at her as he worked the zip down her back. Johanna Mason was not one to shy away from a show and she demonstrated that very clearly when unabashedly peeled her dress off. Katniss rolled her thickly mascara lined eyes at the audacity and her hands instinctively covered Elsie's eyes, directing her to turn around so that her back was to the half-naked tribute. Peeta couldn't help the smile that came over his features and Haymitch made no attempt to hide his appreciative ogling. As the elevator came to a halt, she smiled at both men cattily before succinctly winking at Haymitch. Elsie went to turn around as she heard Johanna's parting words, "Thanks. You should do it some another time." Haymitch nodded as the elevator went to move again. He exchanged a knowing glance with Peeta which did nothing to ease Katniss' evident dislike.

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><p><strong>Hi there! There was some dialogue from the film but that won't happen very often. I'll also re-proofread this again. Elsie's views on the Hunger Games as we saw earlier are quite fixed and there is a reason that I'll delve into afterwards. T<strong>**hanks for reading and please leave reviews! Satiné xx**


	4. Twice Scarred, Once Healed

_Chapter 4: Twice Scarred, Once Healed_

__**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games are in no way mine and rights remain to Suzanne Collins and respective film corporations for their film rights.**__

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><p>Evangeline re-hoisted the strap of her bag onto her shoulder before folding both arms over her chest to keep out the cold. A breezy mist-like wind tousled her hair and blasted into her face dousing her with icy warmth. She pursed her frost-bitten lips as her nose was nipped with numbness. She pressed her feet into the ground wishing that a slow stride would somehow delay her getting back home. She couldn't bear the stillness that came with Elsie's departure…or perhaps it was the fear of finding Thread on her doorstep. Her idle strolling wasn't the least bit interrupted when she heard the end-day whistle from the coalmines sound. She trudged a little further down the road until she approached the large building on the corner. The faded red-brick should've appeared red but in the northern dimness of the sky, it only ever looked brown. She turned the corner and stood on the very edge of the lane that led to the coalmines. Her eyes caught the billboard mounted on the building and peered closer at it. <em>Building a better tomorrow<em>. The block letters were scrawled across the bottom of the board with the image of three coalminers with their picks behind. Her brow furrowed in distaste knowing that the workers in the photo were most likely to be Capitol models who delighted in dressing up and pretending to be a District 12 miner for the hour. She adverted her eyes about to continue when someone of her acquaintance returned her gaze. She registered Gale's weary features and tried to muster a little smile as she lifted her hand in a small wave.

Gale felt drained beyond recognition and putting one foot in front of another was the only thing he could do not to collapse from exhaustion. He gritted his teeth as he admitted that his condition was not half as bad as some of the other miners who were decidedly past the age and health of working. He imperceptibly cleared his throat as his eyes caught the propaganda poster that was mounted on the rundown brick building which he passed at least twice daily. He seethed at how the Capitol advertised his district; they said that coalmining was an honour – yet after toiling for more than ten hours in the mines, he knew they had lied. He felt his eyes drawn to the end of the yard for an imperceptible reason and was met by Evangeline's steady gaze. He marvelled at her calmness that they maintained yet underneath he felt that there was a war-ravaged past being sought. She raised her hand in greeting and the twitch of Gale's lips that was supposed to be a smile drained him of all the energy he had left. As he looked beyond her eyes, he couldn't help but notice that her hair was left loose with brown curls cascading down her coat-covered back. His hands went down unthinkingly to straight his coal-stained shirt in a feeble attempt to look presentable though from her radiant smile he felt as though she could care less.

"Hi." Evangeline greeted him, slapping herself internally that she could not come up with a wittier response.

"Have classes finished for the day?" Gale returned hoping to engage her in conversation.

Evangeline smiled at his implication, "I walked your sister home – figured you shouldn't be working too hard. She told me you're taking care of Katniss' family too. That's very noble of you."

Gale shrugged, "We've been friends for years. It's the least I could do. How's teaching going? From the looks of it, not too well."

She was quiet for a brief moment, "Yes – we've been trying to cover as much material as possible though I think I might have worn out the children today."

Gale nodded understandingly before lightly nudging her in the shoulder, "I know. My sister comes home with stacks of homework and guess who has to help her with it?"

Evangeline smiled, "Yes, I _am _sorry but there's so much to teach, you know, before t-the G-Games." She felt like crying that moment, not because of the renewed memories of Elsie – because they constantly plagued her mind – but rather the lack of emotion to it all. She felt her response inadequate, unworthy of Elsie's sacrifice yet it was all she could conjure.

She felt a strong, grounding hand on her shoulder, "Hey, you feeling okay?" She nodded at Gale's inquiry still sniffling. She felt his unconvinced eyes on her and couldn't help but smile at his insistence.

"Truly, it's nothing. I'm just really worn out that's all. Are you going home now? I'm sure there'll be plenty of homework to catch up with." She smirked lightly.

Gale chuckled, "Where are you headed?"

"The bakery – I've wanted to meet Mr Mallark for a few days now since the reaping but there's been a large amount of surveillance on the place. Thread isn't backing down this time around." She answered, taking up his offer of walking her to the Mallarks'. They continued in silence though it was more companionable than awkward. They'd known each other for years but never acted upon the curt nods that they exchanged or occasional mumbled apology. There was a little part of Evangeline that made her wonder how she could take so easily to Gale Hawthorne knowing that it took over two years to be so unguarded with Peeta. She felt for the first time in a long time that she could be freer, more herself.

Was it so idealistic to consider that you could trust a person with your life, Gale wondered, within only three days of actually speaking? He didn't lie that he had many friendship to compare theirs to; more often than not, he was too preoccupied with taking care of his family and hunting with Katniss for game to exchange in the Hob. He could only measure their friendship against his and Katniss'. Katniss and Gale had been fast friends bonding over the shared grief of their fathers' deaths. Despite being friends for only four years before Katniss volunteered as tribute, Gale liked to think that he knew his best friend more than anyone. The Hawthornes were considered cousins of Katniss' family because of the especially close bond between the two eldest. With Evangeline, however, there was no apparent reason as to how they were.

"I saw you looking at the Capitol's propaganda board outside the mines." Evangeline prompted him.

Gale, unaware that she was attempting to test his patience, was incensed by the mere mention of the Capitol, "The Capitol have no respect, no integrity – it's disgusting. Sometimes I wonder if a rebellion would be better than having to live eternity oppressed by the morons in the Capitol. We're nothing more than slaves to them." His hazed, rage-filled eyes fell on the smiling twitch of Evangeline's lips which she desperately tried to suppress, "Or would you rather live in oppression in exchange for nothing?"

She shook her head as his sneered words and put a hand on his forearm, "I'm not laughing at what you said. I was just thinking: it's so easy to get you enraged." She smirked until her cheeks hurt. She let the amusement wear of before she replied in all seriousness, "I honestly don't know. I wish that somehow we could get away from the Capitol without causing any death or devastation but that is very doubtful – that's why I don't want to see a rebellion happen. How many innocent people have to burn in the Capitol's wrath? And all for what? A sense of freedom burdened with pain like a castle built upon the corpses of its makers? Is that what you want?"

"All I'm saying is that it's better to try and escape than live at the Capitol's mercy." He answered gruffly.

She turned to him as they reached the corner of the street that led to Mr Mallark's bakery. Evangeline was cautioned knowing that there would be peacekeepers in their vicinity, "I do understand. But Gale, I know what happens when you try and escape – the reality is that we are enslaved no matter how hard we try. _We_…" She motioned between them with her free hand, "…will never escape the Capitol's reach. We are forever bound to them."

Evangeline spoke with such conviction that even Gale had to admit that he rethought his motives. There was the barest glint in her eyes that cried out to him to reconsider, to give up the idea of a rebellion. It was almost as though she herself had tried to escape from the Capitol…but failed. He wanted to ask her so desperately but another look into those deep orbs deterred him. He relented though the fire was still not completely put out.

They went about their way until he'd walked her safely to the bakery. There was a newly established tenseness between them which rattled Evangeline. She tried repeatedly to meet his gaze but he adverted his eyes from her determinedly. She was so engaged in attempting to grab his attention that she barely realised they'd reached her destination. Gale wordlessly walked up the small flight of stairs that led onto the entrance of the bakery. He gave her an inaudible goodbye and went to leave. Something clenched in Evangeline's heart as she watched him turn his back to her.

Against all judgement, she called out for him. "Gale! Wait!" She didn't know what had urged him to become so withdrawn but she knew that it was something she'd said.

Gale had turned to descend the stairs when he heard a frantic call for his name. He wasn't upset, per say, but it had disturbed him that how little it took for her to influence him. For years, the rage at the Capitol was seared in his blood, branded in his heart. If a rebellion had happened but an hour ago, then he knew he'd be the first to embrace the full extent to bloody warfare. But now? Now, he knew that he'd hesitate; he may still participate but there would be some part of his conscious that'd attempt to deter him. Evangeline had unwittingly created a weak link in his armour. It wasn't her words that changed him but rather that look. He'd refused to give up their locked gaze as his coaxing let to his uncovering every dark emotion that she felt. And all this without one word. He looked over his shoulder from the foot of the stairs as Evangeline scurried down them to stop him.

"I'm sorry for whatever I said." Evangeline hastily took back her words but disappointment flooded her as he shook his head. She looked to the ground, gently kicking an idle stone away.

"You shouldn't be. I'm not mad." He assured her.

She looked up at him with confounded, "You're not?" Evangeline marvelled at the gentleness with which Gale took her hand into his. These were the hands that toiled with a pick for twelve hours so that he would not be caught by the Capitol, these were the hands that hunted without remorse so that he could feet his family and these were the same hands that sought to comfort her – a strange sentiment.

"I'm not." He told her earnestly, "Can I ask you something though?"

Evangeline collected her emotions unwilling to appear vulnerable in front of him, "Of course."

"Did you ever try to escape from the Capitol?" He made to attempt to mask his blatant curiosity.

Her lip twitched, "I didn't but I'm paying the consequences for someone who tried."

"What happened to them?"

Evangeline's spell-bound gaze was torn from him as she felt a dark presence not too far from them but far enough that they would be out of earshot, "That's a story for another time." She told him and Gale nodded.

"Just remember: if you need anything, you can always come to me."

Evangeline smiled, nodding. "I know. Thank you." And with that he left her standing by the stairs, completely oblivious to the figure in the shadows. But Evangeline noticed. Just as she noticed everything. She drew a shuddering breath as Thread glared daggers at her. She felt strangely thankful that Gale had walked her to the bakery because it distracted her from the fact that she was being hunted by the Capitol, by Thread…by Snow. She retreated back up the stairs and pulled open the door. She smiled fondly at memories of the jingling bell that announced her arrival. She waved at Mr Mallark who was packing the last few breads for the peacekeepers whom were his biggest buyers. He'd diplomatically been able to convince Thread to come and purchase from him at night so that his other customers weren't frightened off. She sidled to the edge of the room as the bell signalled Mr Mallark's last customer for the day. Thread pointedly strode to the counter as Mr Mallark hastily wrapped up the last loaf of bread in some paper. His customer impatiently tapped his white boot on the wood-plank floor as the last of the loaves were placed on the counter. He paid the baker with an ample sum of money and left with the breads in hand without even acknowledging Evangeline.

"Good evening Mr Mallark." Evangeline leant on the counter as she saw Peeta's father slump his shoulders in relief.

"Good evening, Angeline" He responded politely though with a warmer smile than before. Evangeline smiled fondly at the name he'd come up with for her when she was younger.

"Better thanks. Yourself?" She pleasantly responded.

"Well, I suppose. I miss Peeta quite a bit but I imagine that he is in a better condition than Katniss or Elsie, for that matter."

"I never got to thank you for helping me after the reaping, sir." Evangeline offered but Mr Mallark brushed off her gratitude affectionately.

"It's no problem at all, Angeline. None at all. You don't suppose you could help me with putting together these loaves?" Evangeline agreed as she came up around the counter. Briskly washing her hands, she went about helping Mr Mallark wrap up the second-day loaves for the next day. Merchants such as Mr Mallark did care for the plight of the District 12 resident and for Mr Mallark the matter was even closer to his heart because of his association to the Everdeens. He'd put the day old breads for minimum sales for the very poor to afford them. The older the bread, the less they cost.

Evangeline remembered as a young girl, she'd sometimes come to the bakery on her own after school. Mr Mallark would put her upon the counter and she'd idly swing her legs as she talked about school and Mr Mallark went about his business of baking the breads. That was in fact how she'd met Peeta. Following her mother's death, Evangeline found that the bakery brought her a sense of home that her own home now lacked. She take Elsie on her hip and they'd spend some time with Mr Mallark and Peeta. She'd never once spoken to Mrs Mallark who she believed that quite the vendetta against her and aside from the occasional greeting to Peeta's two older brothers, she never quite spoke with them either.

"Gale came in the other day." Mr Mallark offhandedly spoke. He noticed the slight fumble of Evangeline's fingers as they accidentally formed a knot at the mention of Gale. She undid the knot with practised fingers – having done it so many times before – and started anew.

"Oh?" Evangeline tried to remain disinterested at Mr Mallark's statement though inside was devastatingly eager to know what had transpired.

"Yes, traded some game for a loaf of bread for the Everdeens." He couldn't help but remark the slight smile that graced Evangeline's features.

"That's nice of him."

"It is. He does care an awful lot for that family." Mr Mallark said, "I might've even mistook Katniss and him for a couple if I didn't know better." The result was as desired as he heard Evangeline's breath hitch at the prospect.

"Peeta told me they were very good friends. Katniss spoke about him and Prim at lot during the first Games." She nonchalantly contributed as she placed another paper-wrapped bread to the side.

"He's a fine young man though incredibly troubled."

"And volatile." Evangeline admitted though she now felt the turn in their conversation veer into uncharted waters.

"And how are you faring in spite of everything?" He inquired mildly sensing her disturbance.

"Alright, I guess. The house is pretty empty now. And a little too quiet."

"Thread been harassing you?" Mr Mallark asked her without hinting of his pain that she would be a victim to such dangerous people. Mr Mallark was the one person whom she'd confided in about the events of the morning after the reaping.

"Not yet but I know he's got eyes on me. He's waiting for the moment I trip up so he had legitimately storm in and beat me to death." _And it's not as though I'm going to have victors to save me_. She thought grimly referring to the whipping that Gale had sustained after the unfortunate arrival for the new peacekeepers.

"And Elsie?"

Evangeline shook her head, "Nothing. I haven't heard from her though I don't expect to either. I just can't understand why everyone would vote her into the Games! I know that she didn't have many friends but she certainly wasn't hated by anyone that much!" She exclaimed helplessly throwing her hands into the air.

Mr Mallark sighed. He knew the real reason behind the voting but feared that Evangeline's situation would worsen in case she did find out. He saw Evangeline's troubled stare and reached out to her, "Evangeline, if I told you…they'll kill me and burn the business."

Evangeline's tear-stained visage shot up from their flour covered hands to him, "What?"

"I'm sorry, Angeline."


	5. Corruption of Angels

**Hi there! First author's note in a while for this story. Most importantly, thank you so much to everyone enjoying this story and I hope you enjoy an unexpectedly long chapter! Shout out to my Beta, JettStar64 - I don't know where I'd be without you. Also, another big thanks to thesameoldfearsx for my first review for this story. Enjoy this chapter and a mini warning: a bit of violence but no more dangerous than the warring scenes in my other story. Enjoy and please do review! Satiné xx**

**thesameoldfearsx: I'm so glad you are and happy holidays. Celebrate with a new update! :)**

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><p><em>Chapter 5: Corrupting of Angels<em>

__**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games are in no way mine and rights remain to Suzanne Collins and respective film corporations for their film rights.**__

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><p>Elsie cringed as she attempted to shake off the numbness that had overwhelmed her motionless foot. Crouched between a pale white wall and a rack of untouched spears, she shifted minutely hoping not to draw any attention to her presence. She had found herself the perfect viewing position for the training station over: tridents.<p>

Her hand unconsciously went to her mouth as she took up her horrible habit of nail-chewing. She tried to move again in a feeble attempt to remove the cramps from her neck as it had been craned at an awkward angle since she'd first housed herself there.

Her eyes were locked on the male tribute for District 4 as he made swift, lethal strikes.

Finnick Odair held his trident in a firm fist, expertly slaughtering each one of his imaginary opponents. He swung it with a practised murderous force that caused Elsie to jump back every time he drove his sword even remotely in the direction she was situated. So many times, in fact, that her head had begun to throb from the numerous instances she'd hit her skull against the cool metal of the rack. The tribute seemed oblivious to her presence – or if he did see her, he made no move to acknowledge it. His feet travelled…no…prowled along the blue foam mats that lined the ground as the swing of his trident made the tell-tale whooshing sound.

Finnick didn't register the small crowd of Careers that watched him discerningly as he practised. Their short nods of approval also went unnoticed. He left in his wake an impressive finale; a sharp thrust swinging over his head as in his mind's eye, the three prongs of his weapon were now soundly lodged into his final victim's chest. His dark glare spoke volumes to them and immediately, each one of the self-righteous cowards backed off. _Good. _He thought to himself as he replaced his trident into its respective empty slot.

The Careers were now becoming a nuisance to him; quite frankly, the entire Hunger Games left him wanting. The previous day, they'd travelled around the combat centre commanding each of the stations as though it was their own. What perhaps aggravated him even more was the fact that none of the guards on duty did anything to intervene. They made their intentions clear: when they found their desired station, it was theirs and all other must be set to vacate. This intimidation tactic was fruitful as almost everyone complied. All…with the exception of Finnick.

His district partner, Coralie had been attempting to rid herself of her fear of heights at the tree climbing station with Elsie as her mentor. The two had made a rather amicable bond during the first few days of their training. Coralie had been halfway up the tree, caught on one of the weaker branches when she'd been faced by the Career pack. They'd told her in so many threatening words that she leave immediately. They egged her on until she was on the verge of tears both from their obscenities and also her trouble getting down. Elsie had limped up to them and stood up to Gloss but she knew that it would take them put a fist to crush her. Coralie's quicksilver gaze had grown to the size of saucers and finally, Finnick decided enough was enough.

"_Get out of the way Odair. Or I'll crush the both of you." Gloss snarled at the District 4 male as he sauntered his way to where Coralie was in distress. _

"_I'll fork you before you have the chance, Gloss." He snarled in retaliation. Both were of the relatively same height so it made very little difference to them as they glared at each other._

_Gloss' fists clenched and immediately Finnick went to high alert in case the District 1 tribute throw a punch at him. Chances were that when Gloss pummelled him, there would be very little intervention on the guards' part but if he, Finnick, were to gain the upper hand they'd be present in a heartbeat. So it came as somewhat of a relief when Gloss backed away. But still he'd not parted with that pathetic egotistical sneer of his. _

"_Watch your back, Odair. 'Cause when the gong rings…you're the first one I'm going to get."_

Elsie looked away from Finnick to the other tributes. Most were quite likable…for the lack of a better term. That being said, almost all looked to be downright insane and then there was Johanna Mason. She was one of the few tributes Elsie had interacted with. She wasn't crazy, well, not in clinical terms anyhow. She spent most of her time at the axes station. Her desire of blood and violence was barely satiated despite sweat dripping from her defined hairline after an hour's workout. Then, Beetee who was another tribute she'd taken an interest in. The District 3 tribute knew his strengths and weaknesses, not even bothering to attempt any physical activity. Instead, he was hunched over his fiddling hands at the fire-starting station with his timid district partner attached at the hip. Elsie also knew the strong possibility of Katniss alliancing herself them as she'd seen her approach them earlier in the session. Katniss made it no secret that if she had any alliances, then Beetee and his district partner would be strong contenders.

Katniss had taken up arms at the archery station. The small smile of familiarity that Katniss picked up her set of arms or the ease with which she checked the string of her bow made Elsie very aware of Katniss. The girl herself was nice, albeit a little haunted, but dressed in the customary black cargo pants and red and black training uniform – a polo shirt – there was something within her character that changed. It was though…her humanity was turned off. One look in her eyes and Elsie knew that Katniss would not hesitate to kill. Wearing that uniform was like a switch; a very dangerous one. Katniss tapped the pad outside the glass, simulation box presumably programming her training level.

There was one part of Elsie that wanted to watch Katniss to gauge what she was up against but the other part of her conscious won out in the end. Whilst Katniss' awe-striking performance began to attract the attention of the other tributes, Elsie snuck out from her hiding place. She timidly hobbled to the rack of lined tridents and chose out the same one that Finnick had been wielding moments ago. Her fingers grazed the metal pole before she jolted back as though electricity pricked her.

_That's a weapon. It isn't a toy; I'm going to have to kill with this, aren't I? _She considered.

Then she remembered Haymitch's words, _"It's simple. Kill or be killed." _

And with that, she lifted it off its perch. The metal was still warm from Finnick's touch. She mirrored the same stance that Finnick had taken: legs slightly bent – poised to lunge forward and 80% of her body weight on the balls of her feet. The last observation was a little difficult to carry out that Elsie could only make the best of one leg's ability to move. She wavered a little, struggling to keep herself upright but with practise, she succeeded. She noted her own reflection in the mirror panelled wall, shifting her feet apart a little further as she'd marked on Finnick's calculated stance. She brought up the trident, clasping the cooling metal confidently in sweaty palms. His first strike had been a sharp thrust in front of him so she did the same. It wasn't with the same finesse of precision but her eye for detail and sharp memory, was for once in her favour.

_Backward jab. Swing overhead and strike left. Turn. Strike right. _

With each stroke, Elsie became faster and all those little techniques she'd picked up from Johanna's axe, Katniss' arrows and Finnick's trident began to subconsciously fix themselves in her combat as she progressed through the multitude of strikes. Her heel faced thirty degrees in rotation and her elbows locked instinctively. A small smile graced her youthful features as she briefly admired her attack sequence in the mirrors.

Finnick smirked to himself as he watched the older District 12 tribute practise her shooting. From the corner of his eye, he saw that nearly everyone was standing in a line along the side of the simulation box. Flickers of fear and traces of despair danced over each visage as Katniss agley set off another arrow. It cut through the air, being charged with little electrical currents as it passed the sensors straight into the orange hologram that had assumed the silhouette of a person. It shattered like glass as the arrow pierced it; the sight of it like crackling flames as they burst apart like the fireworks he'd seen be displayed at numerous Capitol gala events. He smirked at the thought and watched only five more of her arrows slaughter the holographic targets. Contrary to popular belief amongst tributes, it only took fifteen strikes to gauge your opponent if it is done using the correct methodology. Almost all of these tricks were acquired during years of mentoring. His own mentor, Mags was a very lovely lady and once upon a time, very capable of winning the Games. He had no living family of his own and Mags was as dear to him as his own mother was. She'd check up on him every day after he was claimed victor of the 65th Hunger Games and always ensure that he never felt alone. If it had not been for dear Mags, Finnick didn't doubt that he'd be as insane as some of the other tributes he was up against. He turned away from the archery station and his lips quirked fondly at what he saw.

Elsie trudged back, though not in the least bit exhausted, to the centre of the mats. Again, she prepared her stance with great care and copied the same pattern of movements that she'd been practising for the past few minutes. Her speed was improved vastly though she was still struggled to swing the trident over her head. Her legs faltered and gave way every once in a while but still she persisted, fighting from her knees before carefully extracting herself from a heap on the ground.

_Frontal jab. Backward jab. Swing overhead and strike left. Turn. Strike right…_

She'd become so engrossed in training that she barely realised Finnick's presence behind her. Her eyes no longer stared at the mirror as she pried her memory for any additional techniques; instead, she focused her efforts on swinging the heavy trident hat outstripped her abilities by leagues. As she neared the end of her routine, Elsie reaffirmed her grip on the trident and speared it with all her might behind her. Her forehead glistening with perspiration trickled along the contours of her nose though most of mopped up by her brow. She faltered with retracting the trident when she realised that she didn't stare at the corner of the dumbbell rack across from this station but rather at the uniformed chest of another fellow tribute. Her gaze darted from where she held the trident at head height – consequently at chest height for her close victim – to who she'd nearly attacked.

Her back was rigid in terror as Elsie tried to scale what sort of a storm of fury she'd be faced with once he was finished toying with her.

"You're pretty good." Finnick remarked with a crooked smile. His hands were still poised in the arm; palms facing her; as a symbol of his not being a threat.

She pulled the trident back with a severe tug and housed it beside her as she limped out of stance. "Thank you." She spoke, uncertain as to how she could continue.

He put a hand out in a silent request for the trident. A reluctant Elsie shakily handed it off to him prepared to flee lest he attack her. So it came as a bit of a shock when he did not assume any stance nor did he plunge the trident in the airspace where she was before she darted back.

Finnick chuckled as he languidly came to stand in front of her, fully aware of how petrified she was. In a way, he admired her for it. Most people he met put up a façade of being unmoved but perhaps Elsie was not yet of age to have tactfully mastered this mask. But still, she remained strong. Fearful yet strong. Then it came as disappointment to him that she was only a child. Barely of age for the Games, Elsie should be playing with dolls not tridents.

He held the trident next to her with the end touching the mats, "But this is a little big for you, don't you think?"

She sheepishly nodded. "I think so too."

He laughed openly at the 'guilty-as-charged' expression that overtook her previously shadowed.

Elsie attempted to maintain her reserved state, assessing his face for any possible mocking but found only amusement. The corner of her lips instinctively tugged at the infectious humour as Elsie couldn't help but smile. She vaguely noted that all the other tributes were still enthralled with Katniss' performance. Be to quite honest, Elsie for once felt special. That someone was appreciative her skill with the same enthusiasm as Katniss'. She wasn't jealous of the District 12 victor – not at all, Katniss deserved the praise she received - but it was nice that someone chose her company over her district partner. Elsie was briefly taken aback as Finnick slung an arm around her shoulders as though she were his little sister.

One arm around Elsie and the other grasping his trident, Finnick directed them to the next station over – a station with spears. Elsie craned her neck to look up at him bewildered, "What are we doing at the spear station Finnick? I thought you'd help me with the trident."

The flippant light in his eyes died though the amiability was still intact as Finnick replied, "Yes. But I think you should start with the spear. It's in the same principles but the spearhead is much lighter than the head of a trident. It's easier to manoeuvre so we can practise technique."

"Oh…we?"

Finnick smiled, "I'm happy to train you if you like. You've got talent with the trident."

Elsie weighed the pros and cons of his offer before eventually nodding her assent, "I'd like that."

He nodded before wandering to the spears rack. Finnick rifled through them and at last settled on the smallest spear that was lined up behind all the others. It was still a little taller than her but it'd do. "Here we go. I think this is better." She took the proffered spear and weighed it in her hands with a contented grin.

Effie took deep breaths to attempt to calm herself as she strode purposefully along the furthermost corridor of the mentors' apartments. The clacking of her seven-inch heels once something she prided herself on, now rung in her ears like nails raked along a chalkboard. The silence of the area also made it very eerie causing her to flinch in fear every time a shadow lurked nearby. She hated the feeling that she was doing something wrong; she hated the feeling of terror that someone might come up and slice her throat to keep her quiet. The more she dwelled on her morbid yet realistic thoughts, the faster she walked along the corridor. She counted the door numbers until she finally reached the one she desired – the last one.

She rapped her knuckles against the door thrice and rocked away on the studded, neon pink heels. Her head kept snapping to her left, then right as she swore there was something moving in the shadows. Effie almost fell back as the door's unoiled hinge startled her. The Capitol resident was met by the half-delusional grin of Haymitch Abernathy. Her nose crinkled, leaning closer into him as his clothes reeked of alcohol. She didn't wait to be invited in, pushing past him into the mentors' lounge. Of course, it was no surprise that the bottle, once filled to the neck with rum, was almost drained with only a little of the amber liquid swirling on the bottle.

"I thought you had more manners that to leave a guest standing in the door." She trilled with a familiar tut-tut gesture, "I also thought you promised Peeta you'd stay sombre for them." She pointedly remarked.

Haymitch snorted, tossing his head to the side as his limp dirty-blond fringe came over his eyes. "Yeah, well…promises are made to be broken. Besides, he won't know."

Nothing of Effie's stance but her face which contorted into a strange look moved, "You've been drunk for so long that you can hold a decent conversation with alcohol in your system?"

"Yeah, well. It is what is it, Effie. Now what did you need me for?" He slurred but only slightly.

"It's about the reaping, Haymitch." She trilled as she opened the grey curtains, casting an illumination over the living space.

Haymitch slapped a hand over his face with a groan at the sudden exposure to light, "Effie, please."

Effie glared at him though with Capitol manneristic, it appeared more like a little child scolding him, "Haymitch Abernathy! I need you to be _absolutely _attentive to what I am about to tell you."

He nodded with another groan, "Yes mother."

Effie stamped her foot on the ground; the sound resonating about the spacy yet unhomely room; and stormed him, "Now you listen well, Haymitch because I'm only going to tell you once: those kids don't deserve to have to put up with your antics because they've got more important matters on their hands, and after what I'm about to tell you, so do you! Now, sit down!"

Were it Effie demanding this a year previous, he'd have laughed it off and gone back to drowning his sorrows (and responsibilities) in rum. However, he knew that Effie Trinket had somewhat grown up during this past year. She was still too prim and too Capitol-like but her mind was slowly being attuned to the real tune of life, not the one song that the Capitol have been playing on repeat since the First Rebellion.

He dropped himself onto the chaise and reached out for the bottle of brandy that sat next to the rum. He'd have preferred the rum to brandy but in the end, alcohol was alcohol. He glared as Effie's snow-white, perfectly manicured hands slapped his away from the neck of the half-empty bottle. "If you want me to listen, Effie, you'll be wise to let me have the brandy."

She rolled her eyes but let him take possession of the bottle.

He took a swig and then nodded, "Alright, start talking."

Effie tried to roll her shoulders as she'd seen Peeta do so many times when he was nervous but her rigid posture made it near impossible. She wrung the delicate crepe fabric of her frilly skirt, chastising herself that she'd ruin it if she continued to do so. "It's about the reaping, Haymitch."

"What about it?"

"The entries were tampering with. It was rigged so that Elsie or Evangeline would be picked."

This left even Haymitch speechless, "What _are _you talking about?"

"I was suspicious when I first called out Elsie's name. What could be the odds of two sisters being reaped into the same Games? So…I broke into the cabinet on the train where the entries were kept."

Haymitch laughed, thudding her soundly on the back causing Effie to lurch forward, "That's my girl. Now, you're learning."

She rolled her eyes with a lightly tinged blush on her cheeks at the praise, "Anyways, I went through the slips of paper. Haymitch…there were only three names in all the one hundred and twenty entries."

Haymitch straightened, leaning forward. His concern made Effie even more upset; there was something truly wrong with the entire thing. Now, she was certain of it! "You are sure?"

"I checked every single slip of paper. I was in there for at least an hour!" She snapped uncouthly, "Of course, I'm certain!"

Haymitch leant back into the plush pillows and ran a wearied hand over his face before his back went ramrod straight…again. "Did Elsie ever mention…?"  
>"I-I don't think so. N-Not that I can remember but Haymitch, you've <em>got <em>to do something for those poor children. I'm getting a very bad feeling about this." Her heart jumped to her throat as he sighed. All the remnants of alcoholic substances had vanished.

"I know. I…I'll check it out." And with that, he shifted forward and put a hand over hers, "But Effie, you have to make sure Peeta doesn't find out about this."

"But, Haymitch, he's a mentor too…"

"Yeah, he is. But he's got enough of his plate with Elsie and if he is given even the little amount of reason to be doubtful…you don't want to know what's going to happen."

"But Haymitch who could do something of this scale?" She asked though she was trembling in anticipation of the answer.

"That's what I'm wondering Effie. Because the first person that comes to mind…is Snow."

Evangeline pushed aside another thicket of branches, prying away their twisted boughs. She felt a false sense of security as she ducked underneath and carried on with her leisure stroll. She wrapped the cloak around her shoulder tighter as the blustering winds weaved between the trees. She glanced up at the descending sun as it began to sink behind the mountainous landscape. Those five minutes felt like eternity that she was given a slice of heaven to reassure. Laid on untamed grasses between dried moss and vein leaves, she closed her eyes breathing deeply the fresh, crisp evening air. The leaves bathed in the final rays of daylight appeared like a kaleidoscopic film under her limp fingers. Her cloak was lay fanned underneath her and a halo of billowing tresses, free of pins and ribbons.

Freedom. That was what she tasted on her tongue.

However, her moment of peace was just that: merely momentary. Snap! Her eyelids which had closed upon feeling heavy snapped open as her evened breathing grew ragged. There was something…or someone in the trees no far from where she lay. Evangeline picked herself up from the bed of scattered leaves and dusted herself off hastily. She hopped over a few jagged pebbles and climbed over a boulder and disappeared into the trees.

Evangeline's mind raced in anticipated and even more so as her feet struggled to comprehend her mind's command. The soles of her feet ached beyond reprieve and joints even ached slightly having not walked so far into the wilderness for days, even weeks. She spared a glance over her shoulder. Her view was obstructed by the towering forestry and shed leaves but amidst the haze, she could clearly make out one distinct colour: white. A snow-white that when caught in the sunlight glinted, almost winking at her ominously. Peacekeepers!

Trepidation overcame her and in a flurry of frayed nerves, she continued running. Ignoring the thick crunches of the leaves beneath her boots and the little twigs that poked and prodded at the exposed skin of her arms and neck, occasionally nicking her skin and leaving a white scrap or drawing blood. She routinely looked over her shoulder to get a glimpse as to how far she manage to flee from them. From her peripheral vision, she saw a second Peacekeeper walking in her direction though she doubted he'd actually seen her. When another was blindly moved westward and consequently straight at her, she dug her heels into the ground panicked. She couldn't see where else she could run without encountering one of Thread's minions.

As she mentally prepared herself to give herself up to them, Evangeline twisted around to run headlong into the armoured chaos when her forehead met a hard surface. Unlike the roughness of tree bark that would've scraped her, it left no marks or scratches. He barely left her with any reprieve as he grasped her hand tugging her sharply into his arms, behind the feeble safety of a tree. She went to scream but a hand came over her mouth. The man, as she now gathered from the build of his hand, pulled them both to the ground leaning over her to give away his identity.

Her eyes widened imperceptibly, "Gale!?" She hissed.

"Quiet!" He ordered her in a hushed tone.

They held their breaths as one of the three spotted Peacekeepers trampled the grass underneath his thick boots about five trees away from the huddled couple. Evangeline went lax under his arms as her shoulders sagged in relief. She twisted where she was to face her timely saviour, "What are _you _doing here?" She inquired heatedly; though more out of fear for his life than resentment.

"What do you think?" His bluntly put rhetorical question and the pointed look he sent her caused her for the first time to look over him. Earlier, her back had been pressed against his chest and it was only when he stood, brushing off his pants that she really gathered his attire. He put his hand out to her and she stared at it not registering its purpose until he let out a frustrated sigh and tugged her up. Evangeline felt it the worst moment to do so but fixed her unruly hair that had become frazzled from her little adventure. Clad in army green pants suitable for fast movements and an old grey shirt with a brown hunting vest, Evangeline now saw that he had a quiver of arrows and crossbow mounted on his back and some game shoved hurriedly in a sack.

"You still haven't learnt after the first time?" She reprimanded him. Her pitch was low and voice soft but it held the force of a tempest.

"You wouldn't understand." He returned brushing off her disapproval.

Their heated exchange was interrupted, this time by the crushing of leaves under boots. Evangeline grasped his wrist, paying no heed to the minor spat they'd had before, "We have to get out of here." She told him anxiously.

He nodded in agreement but his question of where was drowned out by Thread's throaty shout, "I don't care! You see something move, you shoot first ask questions later. Someone's bound to me out here." There was no mistaking his raspy voice and with the added recognition of Evangeline who had tensed under his hand, they didn't hesitate in running. He let her lead the way, trusting she knew where they were headed.

"What are you doing here? I didn't think I'd see anyone else venture this far out." He panted as they stopped after about a quarter of a mile of sprinting.

Evangeline was in no less agony that he, perhaps more so as she was not physically conditioned as well as him, "I've been coming here…since I was a little girl." She replied in a similarly tired fashion.

"To hunt?" He curiously asked.

"No." His raised eyebrow led to elaborate, "To think…to cry." She corrected herself but the second she saw sympathy flicker in his eyes, she continued to subtly change the topic, "Since when have they patrolled the wilderness?" She gritted out still hunched at the waist.

"They must've been coming out here for days. Didn't you see: those Peacekeepers were running in certain lines…patterns? I'm surprised I didn't realise earlier; after the beating, I just thought I'd have to be more careful when hunting." He told her.

She nodded though she was still troubled and grasping his hand, they began to run again. She veered sharply off to the left leaving Gale questioning. She fell to her knees and began to move aside the bundles of haphazard leaves and twigs next to an elevated rock-face.

"What are you doing?"

She thanked her luck that her knees were covered by the thick starched material of her dress which would not doubt be torn mid-skirt by the pointed sticks. It wasn't long before her digging revealed a small hole. Gale didn't hesitate in falling to his knees beside her as he took assisted her in moving the sealed entrance of a hiding spot. Once enough had been moved, Evangeline gestured to him, waist down engulfed in the darkness of the hideout, "Come on! Down here!" She pulled him into the steep, decently-sized cavern in the earth. It wasn't the largest and between the two, they barely managed to fit and that too after being entangled by the limbs.

"You okay?" She felt his words before she heard them; his warm breath tickling the shell of her ear.

She nodded despite the restricted space. Before he tried to speak again, her fingers darted up to his lips as a gesture to remain silent. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Evangeline saw his eyebrow quirk up – a questioning sort. She shifted minutely so that her arm trapped underneath her back was freed somewhat. Evangeline pointed upwards where they heard the brushing of boots against rock…straight about them. As she held her breath, Evangeline realised the fingers of her other hand were still on his lips and pulled them away, thankful that her blushing cheeks would go unnoticed in the veil of blackness. The footsteps went away but still Gale wasn't convinced.

"They're too near. They'll find us." He insisted.

"Like hell they will." She snarled impatiently moving away from her companion. She moved another; smaller; cluster of leaves to reveal a gun, "The bullets can travel through metal." She elaborated. Evangeline internally groaned as her restless words stumbled over one another rendering her statement very close to incomprehensible.

She saw Gale peering at her curiously; no doubt, he thought she was not capable of such ire but then again, what did he know of her? He recognised the partial façade of happiness that she showed everyone. He saw her genuine kindness but he didn't know what lied beneath the initial layers of thin gauzy idealism. "That looks like Capitol weaponry." He remarked.

"Because it is." She didn't hesitate as she loaded the gun with the separated clip, "Now, quiet!" She motioned to the entrance to convey to him that she'd check whether the coast was clear but as Evangeline rose – rose meaning she scrambled to her knees to crawl out of her hiding spot – she felt his hand halt her. He shook his head and instead mounted an arrow of his crossbow. Clearly, _he _was going to check whether it was safe enough to leave. She waited with bated breath for any sort of indication of the situation above. A few yet painful moments later, he returned. There was no one in their vicinity.

"You know how to track?" She nodded, "Good."

"Keep your bow and arrows here." She told him, with the tell-tale click of her gun being unloaded, "In case, we do get caught. You might be able to talk your way out but not with those you won't." Her chin nudged in the direction of his weapons. He was hesitant at first but untied his quiver and handed off his possession, "You'll be able to find this spot again, right?"

He nodded still unsure, "Yeah." She hid away his bow and arrow in a different place to her weapons and let herself be helped out of the crevice.

Reaching around her neck, she whipped off her cloak and held it out to him. "To hide the game." She answered his unsaid question, "It used to be my father's; mamma weaved extra pockets in the back to hide his game when he'd hunt for us."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Positive. Now go!" She glanced over her shoulder at the approaching Peacekeepers and internally murmured curses.

"We can't outrun them. What now?" Gale told her harshly.

"You go."

"What?"

"I said: Go! Run, Gale. You'll have a better chance at running than me."

"I'm not leaving you here, Evangeline." He growled shaking her by the shoulders as if it would shake some sense into her.

"I'll be okay." She replied hoarsely, now relentlessly staring over her shoulder. Evangeline impatiently snatched the cloak from his larger hands that wrap it around him, doing it up with nimble fingers. "The pockets are laced with special lining and herbs – they won't be able to smell anything."

"What are you doing to do?"

"Buying you a safe passage out of here. Just run. And don't look back."

And with that, she pushed him with all her might in the opposite direction to the Peacekeepers. He stumbled over his heels, hiding behind a cluster of trees hoping to wait for her but then she did something he'd never have guessed: she gave herself up. Her hands were raised and her expression turned from defiant to compliant.

"What are you doing out here in the wilderness? Trying to escape?" Thread sneered at her.

She bit back the disgust she felt, "I'm sorry. I didn't realise I came out this far."

"Sure you didn't." He glared at her.

"I'll be off now." She said as she attempted to flounce past the head Peacekeeper. His hand caught her wrist in a crushing grip and staring into her eyes for only a second before throwing her to the ground. A twig that had caught on her skirt caused a large tear to emerge in the material. Her palms were coated with dirt as she tried to stand up.

"Now, answer honestly and I'll let you go: is there anyone else in the woods?"

Gale closed his eyes waiting for her response. "No, as far as I know, I'm alone."

"I think you're lying." Crack! The whip lashed out and licked her stomach with the force of a thousand spikes digging into her flesh.

"No, I'm not." She gritted between her teeth as she scrambled only her back preparing to flee but instead, she was pulled back by the ankle like a cowering animal before she felt a searing pain across her back.

"Yes you are. It's him, isn't it?"

"Who?" Crack!"

"Miss Everdeen's friend. The one who caught some lashes the other day for poaching."

"No. I haven't seen Gale all day." Crack!

"Liar." And simply for that, she was beaten another with another three slashes all exactly in the same point on her skin. She tried to run away but fell with trembling knees into the arms of two Peacekeepers who threw her back onto the ground. They leered at her with a thirst to see more blood be expelled from her wounds. They began to come nearer to her causing Evangeline to fall back terrified. Backwards was nearer to Thread who cracked his whip against her back again. She fell forward and at last after ten strikes, he halted the Peacekeepers' progress to her shivering figure. "Leave her. Let her bleed to death out here."

He then leant in and whispered something in her ear that Gale could not decipher.

"_Like father, like daughter." _Something cracked in Evangeline and in a split second, her fist connected with his nose. Blood spurted from it and Thread staggered back. "You'll pay for that."

"You first." She snarled at him.

The Peacekeepers went to descend on her but Thread halted them, "Leave her." A sickening grin came on his face and Evangeline found herself inching back as he towered over her. She cringed at the crunching sound that was made as his steel-capped boots jarred into her ribs. She coughed out the pain but even that didn't satisfy Thread's desire to see Evangeline Stirlingshire in agony. He now nursed a broken nose because of her but that'd be only a fraction of the pain of what he'd give her in return. Again, he kicked her – this time in the stomach and a small rivulet of blood poured form the corner of her mouth. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she tried to gain her bearings. Through her hazy vision, she barely managed to make out Gale's silhouette amongst the trees and felt the sudden urge to cry. With all the strength she could muster, she shook her head. To the others, it would've appeared that she was tried to clear her head but she knew that to Gale, it meant that he was not to intervene.

"Are we taking her to headquarters sir?" One of the Peacekeepers mechanically inquired as Thread spit on the ground beside her.

Thread marched up to the man as if possessed by the devil himself, "What did I order you to do?" He grit between his clenched teeth.

"To leave her to bleed to death, sir." He replied.

"Good. Then learn to follow orders or you'll be next." He inclined his head toward the battered body in the circle of Peacekeepers where unwilling tears began to spill from Evangeline's eyes. She tried to curb them because she didn't want Thread to see her weak but the pain was excruciating. And so she wept. Farther away, Gale let his head fall back against the tree trunk he hid behind as he cursed himself. How could he just stand there and watch her suffer like that? Self-loathing was the first emotion that befell him after extreme guilt as the party of Peacekeepers marched away.


End file.
